


Winter Cannot Wilt You

by Tori_Scribbles



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Child Abuse, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Feelings Are Best Talked About At 4am, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Medical Experimentation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WICKED | WCKD is Not Good, lesbian queens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21811006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tori_Scribbles/pseuds/Tori_Scribbles
Summary: Newt studied his sister. Her shoulders were set, her head held high and as she looked from Harriet out to the crowd her eyes were filled with nothing but love. There wasn’t a doubt in anybody’s minds that she was the right person to be their country's Queen.
Relationships: Harriet & Aris Jones & Sonya | Elizabeth "Lizzy" (Maze Runner), Harriet/Sonya | Elizabeth "Lizzy" (Maze Runner), Minho & Newt & Thomas (Maze Runner), Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38
Collections: Maze Runner Secret Santa 2019





	Winter Cannot Wilt You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [comebacknow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/comebacknow/gifts).



> Happy Happy Christmas Bia!! I hope you have an amazing Christmas and an even more wonderful New Decade! ♥
> 
> A couple of world-building notes:  
> \- This is set in the same time period as canon, so a lot of the tech is the same but obviously the flare never happened, WCKD is still shady and... I made up a country.  
> \- Thomas was adopted when he was a child and then his mother adopted Chuck when he was a baby.  
> \- A Shadow = A Bodyguard  
> \- Chuck's 14 while the others are in their early to mid-twenties 
> 
> **Warnings:** Canon-Typical Violence, Torture, Medical Experimentation and Mental Health Issues. Mentions of suicide and a suicde attempt. And just WCKD's general methods.

**\- Day One -**

“I might just kiss you.” 

Newt hummed. “Good. I deserve it after today,” he said making Thomas laugh as he dropped onto the sofa next to him and pressed his lips softly against Newt’s.

“Did you really say that though?” Thomas asked, laying across Newt’s lap and Newt’s hands automatically found their way to Thomas’ hair.

“Yeah,” he replied. “What else was I supposed to say?” 

Thomas laughed again. “This is why Gally doesn’t like me.” 

“No, Gally likes you just fine, he just won’t admit it because he didn’t like you years ago,” Newt said, which was true. “What I say isn’t going to change his mind, besides, you wouldn’t want it to.” 

He closed his eyes as he let his head rest back against the cushions. Today had been long. With people being as awkward as possible mostly just because they could and it was infuriating. It took every ounce of etiquette training that had been drilled into him as a child not to just tell them all to ‘piss off’ and be done with it. But now, lying in front of a crackling fire, with Thomas’ head in his lap, made it all fade away into a warmth that didn’t come from the fire.

“You’re wrong,” Thomas said, his voice thicker as he drifted closer to sleep. 

“What?” 

“You’re wrong,” he repeated. “What you say changes people’s minds about things all the time.” 

Newt looked down at him with a soft smile on his face. He was right, he usually was. But when he corrected people it was normally done with a fierce determination on his face that dared anybody to question him. This time he spoke with a calm openness that most people didn’t get the privilege to see.

“C’mon,” Newt said, tugging at the ends of his hair to wake him up. “We can’t sleep here, let’s go to bed.” 

- **Day Two -**

The next morning was no less stressful than the day before had been. Representatives of WCKD were still all but demanding more funding for some new disease or another, but it had mostly gotten to the stage where what they were asking for was so ridiculous that niceties were less necessary each meeting, something which Minho took great delight in.

But other policies and diplomats required more thorough attention and as Sonya’s coronation drew nearer by the minute, Newt was happier in those minutes that she was the eldest and not him.

Newt stared blankly at the two menus Frypan was holding in front of him. There were different foods, wines and ingredients on both, some which Newt recognised and some of which may as well have been in German for all he understood it.

“Fry, what am I looking at?” Newt asked after he’d read them three times and still didn’t understand why he was being shown them.

“Menus.” 

Newt blinked flatly up at him.

“Menus which I’ll give to someone else to choose,” Frypan corrected. 

“Why don’t you just choose them? You’re the most qualified to make that decision,” Newt said.

“Apparently a royal has to sign off on them for an occasion like this,” Frypan said and although it was unintentional, the words sent a sharp stab of grief through Newt’s chest. It was something his mother would have chosen easily and it was something else they were left do instead now that she wasn’t here.

“I’m choosing whatever you choose,” Newt said after a beat.

Frypan gave a smile that showed just a hint of sad understanding before he looked back down at the menus. “The second one then,” he said. “Nobody really wants fancy salmon anyway. Chicken’s better.” 

Newt nodded, still not knowing why salmon or chicken mattered but if Frypan said it was better then it must be better. “Chicken it is then.” 

Frypan tossed the first menu in the trashcan next to Newt’s desk and headed out, shouting a quick, “thanks, Newt!” over his shoulder as he went.

It wasn’t ten minutes later that Sonya ducked into his office, shutting the door behind her, leaning back against it like she was hiding for somebody.

“You know this is going to be the first place they look for you, right?”

Sonya scowled. “Second, actually,” she said as she came over to flop dramatically down into the seat opposite him. “They’d look with Harriet first.” 

Newt tilted his head in consideration. “True. But why are you hiding here anyway?” 

“Because they want me to do dress fittings,” she said. “Apparently if I wear orange then my hair’s going to look yellow…” She faltered with a frown. “...or something.”

“Can’t you just pick a dress and be done?” Newt asked and judging by the expression on his sister’s face, that was the wrong thing to say. “Son, you’re going to be the Queen, you already are. Choose whatever dress you want or don’t want.” 

“Tell that to Alejandra,” Sonya muttered darkly.

“They’re putting a crown on your head in a week, you’re gonna have to choose something,” Newt said. 

“If you were me right now, they wouldn’t give two shits about what you wear. It’d be a fancy suit by a fancy designer, with a red sash and that’d be it. You wouldn’t have thirty-six options for shoes and hundreds of colours that all look green.” Sonya broke off her rant with a deep sigh, rubbing her hand across her face tiredly.

“I thought you wanted to wear that blue dress?” Newt asked. “The one with the sleeves.” He waved his hand vaguely towards his arms in a gesture that visualised what he meant perfectly but by Sonya’s laugh disagreed with him.

“I do want that dress but apparently it’s not regal enough,” she said with a roll of her eyes and a mocking note to her tone.

“You’re the Queen,” Newt said flatly, not understanding how he had become the person to discuss dress choices with his sister. Where was Harriet when he needed her? Or Aris? “Make it regal.” 

“I can’t just-” 

Newt raised his eyebrows pointedly and Sonya sagged, suddenly making this seem not about a dress at all.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted softly, looking up at him with a desperate look in her eyes that suddenly made her look more her actual age than she had in months. “I don’t know what I can or can’t say or what’s too much to ask for and what’s expected.” 

“Then ask and see what happens,” Newt said gentler than before. “You’re not mum. Make your own boundaries. You know how this world works, I don’t think that changes because you have a different crown than a few months ago.” He rose to his feet, moving around his desk to lean back against it, taking her hands. He tugged her up to her feet and she all but fell into his arms. 

“I miss her,” Sonya murmured against his shoulder. 

“Me too,” Newt admitted, letting her clutch at his shirt tighter. 

“I’m going to wear the blue dress,” she decided, her voice muffled. “I’ll make it fucking regal.” 

Newt laughed. “Yeah, you will.” He pulled back from her. “Now stop hiding in my office before—” 

Newt broke off with a sigh as the door swung open and Minho came in, still apparently unable to knock. 

“Newt, WCKD’s on the phone, some Doctor Agnes about human trials and your genetics,” Minho said with a shrug, “I stopped listening after she introduced herself.” 

Newt pressed the loudspeaker button on his phone, taking the call off of hold. “Hello?” 

_“Hi there, my name is Doctor Agnes from World Catastrophe Killzo-”_

Newt cut the call, ignoring the way Minho snorted and Sonya covered her hand to stop herself giggling aloud.

“If they call me back, can I do that?” Minho asked hopefully.

“No,” Sonya said with an expression on her face that said she was aiming for stern but hit amusement. “What do they even want?” 

“A blood sample from me and you and basically everyone,” Newt said tiredly. “They’re trying to cure diseases from healthy people… or something.” 

“Good luck with that,” she said. “I’m not giving a random company that has the word Killzone in the title — or anyone else for that matter — any amounts of my blood. Now I’m going to pick a dress so people will stop bugging me.” 

“You know they’ll just bug you about other things, right?” Minho asked.

“And I will delegate those other things to you,” Sonya quipped back, miming straightening a crown on her head.

The gesture made Newt smile fondly and Minho laugh. When they were children and Sonya was sad, Minho would always quip that she had to hold her head up or her crown would fall off. So she’d straighten her crown and face whatever had made her upset in the first place.

“Have fun, boys,” she said, already heading out of the room like ten minutes ago she wasn’t doubting every choice she had to make.

Newt turned back to Minho. “When WCKD call back, put them through to Thomas, he understands what they want but he also won’t give it to them.” 

“So, he’s going to tell them to fuck off?” Minho clarified.

“Probably.” Newt shrugged. “But that’s their problem.” 

Minho smiled, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Alright then.” 

.

“Why have I just had a phone call asking for vials of your blood?” Thomas asked as soon as Newt stepped into his office.

“Hello to you too,” Newt replied with a roll of his eyes.

“Why is someone I went to pre-school with asking for vials of my husbands and sister-in-law’s blood?” Thomas clarified and Newt faltered slightly before looking across at him with a frown.

“You went to pre-school with someone who works for WCKD?” 

“Yeah, Teresa Agnes, she’s a Doctor working in genetic abnormalities. She went to work at WCKD as soon as we graduated school, haven’t heard from her until today,” Thomas explained.

“I didn’t know that it was your friend Teresa when I hung up on her,” Newt defended.

“She did mention that,” Thomas commented, “but why am I the one getting calls about it? You don’t like it when I tell big corporations to fuck off.” 

“I made an exception.” Newt shrugged, leaning back against Thomas’ desk. “They’ve been trying to get through to me again but they don’t like it when I tell them we won’t fund their research or give them our blood.” 

“So, you thought they’d like it more if I told them that?” 

“Well, I spent the afternoon choosing if the gold rug with red trim or the blue rug with gold trim was better for the drawing-room after the coronation like it actually makes a difference,” Newt said.

“Which one did you choose?” Thomas asked curiously.

Newt gave him a flat look. “The red. The blue clashes with the shade of Sonya’s dress.” 

**\- Day Eight -**

Newt clutched Thomas’ hand tightly as they rose to their feet. Music blasted through the room loud enough that it vibrated through their bones.

The doors to the throne room opened and Newt turned, a burst of hot pride shooting through him as Sonya stepped around to stand at the top of the aisle. Her arm was looped through Harriet’s, half-hidden by the thin, flowing sleeves of her royal blue dress. Sonya seemed to drag her eyes away from her wife as she looked straight ahead. Even from here Newt could see the way she took a breath and tilted her chin almost defiantly before she took her first step.

Everyone seemed to hold their breaths as the couple passed and there was something about the heaviness in the air that Newt couldn’t quite place. Uncertainty, hope and pride all mixed together as Sonya took a knee and recited her vow.

The humour from a lifetime of jokes and teasing about Sonya being the future Queen seemed to slip away as the gleaming golden crown was bought down to rest on her head. A near-identical one but cast in silver was set atop of Harriet’s curls as she made her own pledge and the county seemed to exhale in unison as they rose up to their feet together and took their places next to each other in history.

Newt studied his sister. Her shoulders were set, her head held high and as she looked from Harriet out to the crowd her eyes were filled with nothing but love. There wasn’t a doubt in anybody’s minds that she was the right person to be their country's Queen.

.

As everyone drifted from the dining room to mingle for the rest of the evening, Newt leant back against a sideboard with Minho at his side as they took in the room. 

Sonya and Harriet were surrounded by their friends, smiles on everyone’s faces as they all spoke animatedly. It didn’t matter that two of them wore crowns now, Brenda still jabbed at Harriet’s shoulder and Aris still rested against Sonya’s side like they always had because to the right people, birthright, duty and all the rest didn’t matter.

Thomas was stood a little way from them, shooing his younger brother Chuck away so he could continue his conversation with Doctor Teresa Agnes, who although had been invited more out of courtesy than anything else, was a kind woman who had been hanging around more and more after meetings recently. Newt didn’t particularly have an opinion on the woman herself but he was glad that Thomas was able to reconnect with someone from his childhood.

He seemed more at ease when he spoke to her or about her. The two of them were friends before he’d built up walls to keep the world out, so when she was around a part of him didn’t think those walls were necessary.

“Hey, I just got a weird message from Gally,” Minho said, drawing Newt out of his thoughts as he held out his phone.

“I don’t want to know,” Newt said, pushing the phone away without looking at it, not wanting to know what innuendo or euphemism was on the screen.

“No, really.” The hard tone in Minho’s voice made Newt drag his eyes away from Thomas and look down at the phone.

 _From: Gally;_ _  
__WCKD just went on the offensive._

Newt stood a little straighter. “What the hell does that mean?” he asked, reading the message again with a frown.

“I dunno. I haven’t seen him since the dinner,” Minho replied, scanning the room for any sight of him.

Several phones chimed around the room in unison, including the one in Newt’s pocket and Minho’s in his hand. A cold sense of dread rushed through Newt’s system and his head shot up to meet Minho’s panicked eyes. Before either of them could so much as open their mouths, the room went dark. Newt didn’t know what started first: the screaming or the ground shuddering explosion that shattered windows and crumbled through the outer wall.

“Get down!” 

“Get Sonya and Harriet clear!” 

“Let me go!” 

Newt’s heart pounded in his chest and adrenaline coursed through his veins to override the panic.

Something was on fire and it was the only thing illuminating the room. Everything was cast over in a flickering orange glow and it made it hard to tell one person from another.

An unmistakable red laser light cut across the room and Newt lunged towards where Thomas had been. He barely made it two steps before someone barrelled into him, pushing him down to the floor barely a second before gunfire broke out. 

The air became thick with the smell of gunsmoke and terror. 

Whoever pushed Newt to the floor didn’t move from on top of him and nausea twisted in his gut as he felt something hot and wet soak through his shirt and the person on top of him still didn’t move.

Newt pushed the body off of him and tried to remember how to breathe as he looked down at the unseeing eyes of a man Newt had known for years. He laid Zart’s head on the rug as gently as he could and felt sick as he realised this was the same rug he’d spent an hour arguing with someone over just days earlier.

He forced himself to leave him, crouching for cover behind an overturned table as he scanned the room for his friends.

Harriet had gotten a gun from somewhere and was standing shoulder to shoulder with Brenda, protecting the people huddled behind them, as they fired unforgivingly into the sea of masked invaders.

A sudden rush of movement to his right drew Newt’s attention and he turned just in time to see Jorge sweep Chuck straight off the floor and out of the room. 

But that was still only four people accounted for.

Seeing his opening, Newt dove forwards, pulling the rifle out of one of the dead guard’s hands, he covered his path towards Harriet’s side.

“Newt! Where is she?!” Harriet screamed, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

“I don’t know. Where’s Thomas and Minho?” 

Harriet glanced across at him, her eyes wide with worry. “I don’t know.” 

“You two should get clear!” Brenda said. “Reinforcements are here.” 

“Where are the others?!” Newt shot back.

“I don’t know and we can’t find them and stop you from getting shot!” she yelled before pressing her hand to her ear. “Get them clear!” 

Newt hadn’t even realised she’d been wearing a comm tonight. It was so easy to forget that Brenda, although as close to them as any family, had started out as Sonya’s personal shadow.

Someone grabbed Newt’s arm, yanking him away and it took Newt a second to realise it was Gally.

He and Harriet were all but dragged out of the room and it wasn’t until he was several corridors away that Gally finally let them go. Harriet whirled straight back around, getting into his face.

“Let me go back there!” she screamed, slamming her hands into Gally’s chest but Gally didn’t budge. “We have to go back and find her!” 

His jaw was set and there was a look in his eyes that made Newt take a step forward. “What is it?” 

“They withdrew,” Gally said and the tension in his voice made Harriet fall still. “The power’s back up but people are missing.” 

“Missing?” Harriet repeated.

Gally met her eyes. “Taken. They took people.” 

Newt didn’t wait for Gally to finish speaking before he was sprinting back down the corridor they’d just come through. A guard tried to grab him before he could push back through into the drawing-room but Newt didn’t let that stop him. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as he searched the room for anybody familiar.

Thomas. Sonya. Minho. Aris. Frypan. Alby…

“Newt?!” 

Newt barely had a chance to register his name before Thomas was all but barreling into him and as Newt clutched at him tightly, he felt a little of his panic slip away.

“New— you’re covered in blood. Are you hurt?” 

Newt shook his head as they pulled back far enough that they could see each other’s faces.

“No. It’s— it’s not mine,” Newt managed to say giving Thomas a once over. There was a small cut across his forehead, with drying blood matted in his hair, but aside from that, he looked okay. 

“Who’ve you seen? Chuck?” 

He nodded. “Jorge got him out,” he assured him. “Have you seen Sonya and Minho? Or-” Newt fell silent as he registered the pained look on Thomas’ face and he knew that not everyone was okay.

“Alby’s dead,” Thomas said and Newt willed for that to be it. For this entire night’s casualty list to be just two people. He didn’t know if he could handly more losses than that. But Thomas kept talking. “So is Alejandra. Minho, Sonya, Aris, Winston and Teresa are all missing. People are saying they saw someone carry Sonya to one of the bergs that the attackers flew in on.” 

Newt felt the breath leave his body of its own accord. The room around him spun and his grip on Thomas’ arms was the only thing that kept him on his feet. 

They’d taken them.

Were they going to be ransomed? 

Were they going to be executed? 

A series of scenarios ran through Newt’s mind so fast he could barely comprehend them, each one worse than the last. 

Minho’s alarmed expression right before the lights went out flashed into Newt’s mind. He saw Sonya laughing with Aris and Harriet right before the messages came through. How long after those moments had they been dragged out of the building and shoved on a berg? 

Guilt twisted in his stomach and Newt forced himself to swallow the bile that threatened to rise up in his throat. Every time he’d been glad Sonya was the heir and not him. Every time they’d brushed away security’s concerns about threats with mocking laughs.

Aris was younger than all of them, so quiet but incredibly loyal. Would he put himself between their captors and his friends?

Newt had no doubt that Sonya would selflessly stand in front of her people and do everything she could to keep them from harm, even if that made her the target.

And Minho… Minho would say or do whatever he could to keep the attention on him no matter what it cost so long as the people he cared for were safe.

Newt pictured his families faces and pushed his emotions aside. Panicking would do them no good. Grieving for them wouldn’t bring them back. Finding them would.

Raising his head, his eyes met Thomas’. A cool look of determination and anger had settled on his husband’s face and without words needing to be spoken between them, an agreement had been made.

Newt nodded slightly. “We need to speak to Harriet.” 

\- **Day Twelve -**

The families living in the Palace had been temporarily evacuated after the attack and Vince — their head of security — had overseen their move to a small cottage by the coast on the other side of the country. He’d tried to push for it to just be Newt, Thomas and Harriet who stayed together and to split the rest up to make them harder to trace. But when the options Harriet presented were everyone came or nobody went. Everybody came.

So now, two days after the funerals for those had died in the attack. Newt sat around a worn dining table with those he and Harriet had deemed their closest advisors — something that Brenda had declared their war council.

“We don’t even know who took them,” Frypan said. “We can’t go after someone if we don’t know who they are.” 

“Yes, we do,” Gally said, his voice quiet and dark. He’d barely spoken in the past week, but when he had, it had been only a few quietly angry words that had drawn everybody’s attention. Now, he looked up as he felt their gaze on him, his hands clasped together as his elbows resting on the table’s edge. “We have satellite images showing the same men loading into the same bergs at a WCKD facility just an hour before the attack. They’ve been wanting contact with Sonya and Newt for months now.”

“Why would they take Teresa? Or anyone other than Sonya then?” Thomas asked, a defensive edge to his tone that made Newt’s eyebrows rise.

“Bargaining chips?” Harriet suggested tiredly. Her hair had been braided down past her shoulders and gone were the ceremonial dresses and crowns, in their place were military-grade boots and cargo trousers.

“Or variables,” Jorge said gravely. “There have been rumours before about how consensual WCKD’s human trials have been before, especially the ones done on children.” 

Thomas raised his head. “Didn’t they want blood samples for medical experiments?” He looked to Newt who nodded. “WCKD are doing medical research so different people give different variables.” 

“So what? They’re being used for medical research? But they’re all healthy…” Brenda trailed off, her face paling. “Unless WCKD makes them not.” 

“What happened to the main WCKD centre in the city?” Harriet asked. “They couldn’t have committed treason and just gone back to work the next day.” 

“It’s abandoned,” Newt spoke for the first time, sliding a tablet with the satellite footage Gally had mentioned across the table. “Nobody’s been in or out of there since that night.” 

“We go there then,” Gally said, pushing away from the table, the legs of his chair screeching angrily against the tiled floor. “They had to have left something behind.” 

“We can’t just walk through their front door,” Brenda argued.

“Yes, we can,” Harriet said, her voice was soft but everybody fell silent to listen to her. She looked across to Newt who nodded slightly as he realised where this was going. “I can walk through whatever doors I want with whomever I want and if they try and stop me, or any investigation to find their Queen, then it’s treason.” 

A heavy silence settled across the room.

“She’s right,” Thomas said what everyone was thinking. “And it’ll send a clear message that we’re coming for them and anybody else they’ve ever taken. We stop them. Permanently.” 

Harriet made an agreeing noise. “Let’s go get our revenge.” The dark look on her face almost made Newt feel bad for the people that were going to stand in her way. _Almost._

Jorge rose to his feet. “Wheel’s up in five minutes.” 

.

Newt walked next to Harriet, the rifle in his hand heavy as they came to stand in front of WCKD’s looming skyscraper.

“Anyone wanna knock?” Frypan asked and Newt shot him an amused look over his shoulder.

“I will,” Harriet said, taking a step forward as she pumped her shotgun and blasted the lock and a good portion of the glass door away. Newt wondered if while he was leaning on all of the diplomatic lessons that had been drilled into him, she, in turn, was relying heavily on her military training. She kicked the broken doors apart, walking across the shattered glass into the lobby, everyone else a half a step behind.

“Jorge, can we get some lights on?” Brenda asked as Newt moved over to the des. He looked down at the staff sign-in sheet, most of which were a bunch of unfamiliar names. The CEO, the head of security, different phase directors and a hell of a load of admin and lab staff.

“Director’s office is on the top floor,” Thomas said, reading over his shoulder. “Ava Paige. Teresa’s lab is Med Lab 6.” 

“We sweep the building basement up,” Vince said, his voice dropping to the one he used when training cadets. “Still sure you don’t want to call in back-up?” 

“No,” Newt and Thomas said at the same time, they exchanged a look but it was Gally who went on.

“We didn’t know WCKD was coming until minutes before the bomb dropped and the wall was blown out,” he said. “Someone must have known and we don’t know who that was.” 

Vince inclined his head. “Let’s head down then.” 

As if on cue, whatever panel Jorge was fiddling with on the wall sparked and the power came on with an electrical whir.

Vince took point at the front door as the rest of them made their way to the elevator and down to the lowest level.

“This isn’t a garage,” Brenda pointed out as they stepped out into a dimly lit grey corridor.

They moved out down the corridor to a circular station with large steel doors around the outside.

“Are these—” Harriet broke off.

“Cells.” Gally finished for her, pulling one of the doors open. 

Inside was four bunk beds with only basic blankets and sheets, some of them ruffled like someone had rushed when they left and hadn’t made the bed. 

Newt peered through the small porthole-like window into the nearest cell, it was identical to the one Gally had opened except for the hoodie that lay over the foot of one of the bunks. He pulled open the door and stepped into the cell. The beds left nothing but a small walkway between them and the metal floor and furniture did nothing to help how bitterly cold it felt. Reaching out Newt picked up the crumpled hoodie and as he held it up, something caught in his throat.

It was too small to be an adults or even a teenagers. Printed across the back in bold white print was: _Property of WCKD_ and Newt didn’t think it referred to the hoodie itself.

“The reports of children being taken-” Newt said, stepping out of the cell with the hoodie still in his hand. “-how old were they?” 

Jorge looked up to meet his eyes and Newt wasn’t certain he wanted to know the answer. 

“Six,” Jorge said quietly, but his voice carried in the silence of the room. “A six-year-old girl went missing and when it was investigated, her parents had strong ties to WCKD.”

“And when was this?” 

Jorge sighed. “Your mother was aware of the rumours when they started." 

Newt turned away, stepping back into the cell anger and betrayal bubbling hotly under his skin as his fist curled around the hoodie. He knew he didn’t have all of the information but did it matter? 

“Newt-” 

Newt shrugged off Thomas’ hand as he tried and failed to draw his thoughts together.

The memory of his mother’s soft features and warm tone were suddenly marred with the agonizing question: would his sister be home and safe right now if their mother had acted on those rumours? 

What hurt more than the question itself was the fact he was never going to get an answer but if Sonya didn’t come home… it would be answer enough.

“Newt,” Thomas repeated, his voice harder than before and Newt forced himself to move.

He laid the hoodie back across the end of the bed. He stepped past Thomas and out of the cell without a word. They swept through the rest of the floor and the floor above, finding identical cells with identical beds. One had a half-eaten roll on the floor next to an upturned tray and although stale, the bread wasn’t that old.

It became more interesting the higher up in the building they went. 

None of them particularly understood all of what was in the labs, but they took copies of things that looked important, a tablet had been abandoned at a workstation and that was collected with the rest. Even Teresa’s lab had been wiped clean, despite the fact that she hadn’t been in the building to do it.

The top floor of the building was nothing but a conference room between the offices of the Director and Deputy Director of the company.

Thomas lingered at Director Ava Paige’s desk, flicking through the paperwork that was scattered across the desk and Newt watched him from the doorway absently.

“Hey Newt, come here a sec,” Harriet called out from back by the elevator. Exchanging a questioning look with Thomas he walked across the hall to her, his footsteps echoing in the empty building. “Look at this.” She pointed to a photograph on the wall, a man and a woman held a plaque up between them, smiling happily at the camera. 

The golden plaque underneath, along with a date from fifteen years ago, read:

_Director Ava Paige and Assistant Director A.D. Janson after receiving a grant from Her Majesties Foundation for Medical Advancements._

“She gave them funding…” Newt said quietly.

“No, look at him.” Harriet pointed to the man in the picture. “Janson. Does he look familiar?” 

Newt studied the man’s face, he looked just shy of middle-aged, dark hair slicked back and piercing blue eyes but Harriet was right, there was something about him that stirred a familiar feeling inside of him.

“I- yeah, he looks familiar,” he said. “I don’t know why though.” 

“I thought so too,” she said.

“I-” Thomas cut himself off with a slight shake of his head. “Nevermind.” 

Newt narrowed his eyes as Thomas looked away too quickly and he made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“C’mon,” Thomas said, looking back to the group. “There’s nothing else here. Let’s head back and go through what we did get.” 

There was a murmur of assent around the group before they headed back down to the elevators and Newt couldn’t help but occasionally glance across at Thomas’ suddenly guarded expression on the way down.

.

Once back at the cottage they reassembled around the dining table, spreading out what they’d found across the surface.

A tablet, a list of staff, pieces of a broken hard drive and a secretaries appointments book.

Jorge pulled the pieces of the hard drive towards him with a small toolkit, carefully trying to fix it enough so that they could even plug it into something.

Harriet swiped up the tablet, flicking through it for anything significant and Gally flipped through the appointment book while Brenda read out the long list of staff, highlighting any name anybody recognised. 

It was long and nobody recognised much but it was necessary and the entire time Newt kept his eyes on Thomas who in turn kept his eyes fixed on the table, no matter how much he thought about it, Newt couldn’t make a connection between Thomas and Ava Paige and Janson.

“That’s it,” Brenda said, flipping the list of names back to the front. “Out of six hundred, we recognised eight.” 

Newt sighed, finally dragging his eyes away from Thomas who didn’t so much as blink at Brenda speaking.

“Harriet? Have you got anything?” he asked.

Harriet nodded, but it took her a second to reply. “Er, yeah.” She looked up, her eyes filled with tears as she passed the tablet across. “The tablet has files on human subjects. There are a lot. Most of them under twenty. There are no names just… A1, A2 etcetera…” 

A wave of nausea twisted in Newt's stomach as he scrolled through the files. Records of experiments and surgeries. Photos of children strung up like cattle with various tubes coming out of their bodies made Newt want to throw up. Some of them had dates of death going back decades.

The people who did these horrific things to children now had their friends; their family. What would they do to adults?

Newt didn't look at the rest. He pushed himself away from the table, moving to lean heavily on the sink, staring out the window at the trails of raindrops that ran down across the glass, trying to erase the images from his mind.

He didn't need to look to know the tablet was being passed around, the horrified noises were enough of an indication.

"Are there any other locations listed on there?" Vince asked and when Newt turned back he was looking down at the screen, a carefully blank expression on his face.

"Just a distribution centre," Harriet said softer than before, "by the docks where they get lab equipment from." 

"We go there then," Newt said, looking across at her, "first thing."

“Alright,” Vince said, “get some food, get some rest. You’re no good to anybody like this.” 

There was a murmuring of agreement around the room and they all started to drift away. 

“Food in an hour,” Frypan said, already pulling ingredients out of the cupboards.

“Do you need any help?” Harriet asked, rubbing at her eye and Newt wondered if she’d actually slept in the last couple of days or if she was doing everything she could not to sleep.

Frypan looked at her for a second and seemed to come to the same conclusion. “Sure,” he said, “wanna cut those up?” 

Newt turned away as Harriet reached for a knife and moved towards Thomas who was frowning down at his phone.

“What is it?” he asked.

Thomas didn’t glance up. “I’ve got a missed call from Chuck. Mary’s bringing him out here tomorrow. She’ll stay with him while we’re… out.” 

“He’ll love that,” he said with a slight laugh, not particularly looking forward to Chuck insisting he go out with them every time they went to a WCKD facility. “I’m gonna go have a shower, you should call him back.” 

Thomas nodded, already dialling his brother.

**.**

“So, what was it?” Newt asked once Thomas had come back to their room and he’d stepped out of the bathroom.

“What?” Thomas looked up at him from where he was unlacing his boots with a frown.

“Back at WCKD, when you looked at the picture of the Director and Deputy Director, you recognised them,” Newt said, leaning back against a chest of drawers, his arms coming across his chest loosely.

Thomas looked back down at his boots guiltily and any chance he had of brushing it off went out of the window with the simple gesture. He kicked off his boots and let his elbows rest on his knees for a moment.

“Thomas?” Newt prompted lightly.

“My mom worked in medical research for a privatised company,” Thomas said quietly, not looking at Newt as he spoke. “I was just a kid but I remember her telling me that they got funding from the Queen. I went to work with her one day after school, but I remember her having an argument with Janson — I don’t know what it was about — but I’d never seen her that angry before. She quit her job a week later and it was only a month later… she died a month later and Chuck and I came to Vince and Mary.” 

Newt stepped across the room, folding slowly down to sit next to him on the bed, resting his hand on Thomas’ thigh. “Tommy… what are you saying?” 

Thomas shook his head. “WCKD have been kidnapping and experimenting on kids, they set a bomb off at the Palace, they killed Alby and Zart… is it too much to think that they could’ve killed her as well? They always said the accident looked suspicious but they just couldn’t prove anything.” 

Newt let out a heavy breath, reaching out with his other hand to lace his fingers through Thomas’ as he considered what to say. “Vince said… Vince said that the rumours about missing children started just after they got the grant. I’ll make a call and find out the exact date, and see if its close to when your mum died.” 

Thomas nodded, his eyes far away, not really seeing the room around them. “It won’t change things,” he said, sounding strained. “But it can’t be worse than her dying in some senseless car accident.” A sad smiled passed over his lips as he went on. “She adopted me before I can even remember and it was just us for years until one day she asked how I would feel about having a little brother and then we had Chuck. But before then there were five years where it was just us and-” 

His head fell and Newt pressed himself closer, drawing Thomas sideways against his chest. One of Newt’s hands drew up to brush through Thomas’ hair and he tightened his grip around his husband’s fingers with the other.

“If WCKD killed your mum, we’ll get revenge for her too,” Newt promised softly, his lips brushing against Thomas’ forehead.

“Do you think…” Thomas faltered. “Do you think that if Chuck and I hadn’t have gotten to Vince sooner then they’d’ve taken us too?”

Newt wanted to say no. That nobody would have let that happen but he couldn’t. Because people did let it happen with God knows how many other children.

“I don’t know,” he said instead. “But you weren’t. You’re here.” 

And Newt thanked every God he didn’t believe in that he was.

**\- Day Thirteen -**

The next morning they got back to the cottage barely four hours after they left for the distribution centre and all they had to show for it was another address for another WCKD centre and tensions were starting to run high at the lack of anything really conclusive.

Gally and Thomas were biting each other’s heads off over every comment or lack of, Harriet had to be pulled off of the distribution centre’s manager by both Brenda and Frypan when the man got a little bit snarky and Newt, Newt was just tired. 

He was too angry to grieve and too tired to be angry. He was just slipping back into that hollow emptiness that wasn’t cold and it wasn’t warm it just… was.

He wanted his family back. He wanted his home back and in one piece. He wanted to do something, anything to fix things but he couldn’t. None of them could right now, they just had to wait and that was the worst part.

A rapid knock on the front door made everybody’s heads snap up, alarm shining in everybody’s eyes as their hands twitched towards their weapons. 

Newt reached out for the TV remote, turning the volume on the news report down slowly as Harriet said something in a hushed tone that he couldn’t hear. 

“No,” Thomas hissed back at her, “not for a couple of hours.” 

Newt moved towards the front door, Jorge’s revolver in his hand. He rested his hand on the door handle, looking up at Brenda who was poised next to him. She counted back slowly from three and on one Newt wrenched the door open, gun raised ready to— 

“Chuck!” Newt dropped his gun arm, pushing it behind his back where somebody pried it out of his fingers so he could step forward to hug his brother-in-law like he hadn’t just pointed a gun at his face. “What’re you doing here so early? Thomas said you’d be hours yet.” 

“We came early,” Chuck said, returning his hug tightly.

“I tried to call,” Mary said, with a fond smile as she stepped past them to reach out and wrap her arms around Vince’s neck. “I guess you were still out. Security didn’t want us to wait around for any longer so we left early.” 

“It’s good to see you,” Thomas said with a slight laugh, as Chuck pulled away from Newt to throw himself at Thomas. Newt watched the two of them for a moment, a soft smile fell across his lips at the light that shone in Thomas’ eyes, he’d been so focussed and angry for the past weeks, it was nice to see a glimpse of before.

Around the room, weapons were slid away as everybody came to greet Chuck. Frypan ruffled his hair, Harriet hugged him and Gally went through the complicated motion’s of the handshake with him that they’d gradually perfected over the years. The tension that had been building up and up over the last day seemed to melt away just enough for them all to breathe a little easier.

Newt closed the front door that had just been left ajar, shutting out the sharp winter breeze that curled through the air and went to join Thomas and Chuck on the couch who were hunched over a tablet that looked like it had been taken from the Palace Estate. 

“Newt, look at this,” Chuck said, beckoning him over. “It’s what they’re fixing.” 

Newt sat down on Chuck’s other side and looked down at the screen. A knot twisted in Newt’s gut as he took in the photographs. The drawing room they’d all been in when the bomb went off and the outside wall crumbled down somehow looked worse in the daylight. The furniture had been cleared out and the red rug with golden trim that had been left with deep blood stains was gone and it no longer looked like the bright, warm space where Newt had played as a child. It was hollow. Thick layers of dust from the rubble lined every surface and it was like looking at a photo of an abandoned building torn apart by war. 

Maybe that’s what it was.

It made him feel sick.

“Here.” Chuck swiped to the next picture. The rubble had been cleared out and so had several meters of the remaining wall making the hole look a little more deliberate. Chuck swiped again and in the third photo, new bricks had started to be laid, filing in the hole that night left. 

“They let us go and pick stuff up before we came here,” he said, “and I snuck in to see the work. The hole’s been completely filled in. It’s all bricks now. So they’re relaying the floor.” 

“It’s being rushed,” Mary said, coming to stand next to Thomas, her hand brushing through his hair in a casual and useless gesture to try and neaten it. “It’ll be completely done when Sonya comes home so none of you has to worry about it.” 

Newt gave a grateful smile. He hadn’t even thought about the repairs on the Estate and he was glad he didn’t have to.

“You’ve just got to sign off on the form that’s attached so we can accept donations, artwork, furniture, antiques, that sort of thing,” she said.

Newt nodded, signing the form after glancing over it. “Thanks.” 

“When can we go back?” Chuck asked and an uncertain silence fell across the room. Thomas and Newt exchanged a quiet look above his head. Newt raised an eyebrow in question and Thomas’ lips tightened slightly in reply before he looked back down at his brother.

“Soon, we hope,” he said, “when the building is finished.” 

“When you bring the others home?” 

Thomas ran a hand through Chuck’s curls and nodded, a heavy look in his eyes. “Yeah, then.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Newt saw Harriet shift and when he looked over at her properly she had an uncomfortable look on her face. She caught Newt’s eye and turned away quickly, pushing herself away from where she was leaning against the wall and headed upstairs. Newt frowned, looking back to Thomas who had a look that mirrored his confusion.

“Go after her,” Thomas said softly and Newt nodded. He passed the tablet back to Chuck and rose up to follow her.

Newt knocked on the doorframe to Harriet’s bedroom and tried not to be concerned at the scuffle inside.

“Er, hold on,” she called out, her voice muffled before the sound of footsteps on the creaking floorboards drew closer and the door was pulled open just enough that Harriet could peer through the crack. “Oh, Newt, hey.” 

“You alright?” 

She gave a tight, unconvincing smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Newt nodded. “Alright. Can I come in?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” She stepped back, letting the door swing open and Newt inside. He tried not to notice the way she shrunk back into herself. The dark circles under her hollow eyes had grown darker and it was a painful contrast to the warmth and fierceness that usually shone through. 

Newt sat on edge of the bed and tried not to let his eyes linger on the pillow and duvet that were scrunched up in the armchair whereas the bed sheets and other pillow were untouched.

“Do you want to go back?” he asked, ignoring the way her eyes narrowed. He twisted his wedding ring around his finger and went on. “Downstairs when Thomas mentioned it, I couldn’t tell.” 

Harriet held his gaze for a moment before turning to gaze out of the window. “I never want to go back,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. “When we find them, are we just supposed to go back like nothing ever happened. Like our drawing room wasn’t turned into a battlefield? Like what should have been one of the best days of Sonya’s life turned into a bloodbath and she can’t process that because she’s in some WCKD lab somewhere! It’s been _weeks.”_ She looked back at him, her eyes holding a burning with a fire that she wouldn’t let burn out until this mission was done. “But,” she went on after a moment, her voice leveller. “but I think we should go back before the reconstructions are finished.” 

Newt raised his head in surprise. “You do?” 

Harriet nodded, stepping forward to drop down on the mattress next to him. “I knelt in front of our country and I swore that I would be whatever I was needed to be.” She pursed her lips as she considered her words. “My people need me to bring Sonya home but they also need me to run the country and I can only do one of those things if I’m hiding here. I just don’t want her to come back to a broken country because we couldn’t multi-task.” 

Newt met her gaze with a soft smile. It had never been clearer why his sister had fallen for her and why they worked so well together.

“She’ll be really proud of you when she comes home,” he told her. “And for what it’s worth, I am too.” 

Harriet gave a watery smile. “Thanks. If— if—” She bit her trembling and Newt’s heart clenched as he reached out to take her hand.

“Then we’re all going to be here,” he said, not wanting to even consider it as a possibility. 

She took a steadying breath and Newt followed her gaze to the two crowns that rested on top of her dresser. They were made to look like thin ivy vines and flowers, twisted together with such intricate details. It was a plant with mixed opinions, some were enamoured by it and to some it was poisonous. The Royal Family was both. Beautiful and entrancing as it shone in sunbeams but strong enough to tear down structures that had lasted millennia and even through the harshes winters, the ivy survived. 

The crowns, despite their delicate appearance, they had been passed on from Kings, Queens and their consorts for generations, a little battered here or there but still symbols of an entire country. On the inside of their largest leaves, was an inscription, it started on one and finished on the other — an unspoken rule that nobody should rein alone. 

_Usquequo tu non hieme ita experiri aliud._

_The winter cannot wilt you, so let nothing else try._

\- **Day Eighteen -**

Newt rammed the butt of his rifle into the side of a WCKD guard’s cheek and he crumpled to the floor with a stream of blood trailing down his cheek. A second guard rushed at him and Newt didn’t move fast enough. He was knocked back into the wall and barely managed to turn in time to fire two rounds into his attacker’s chest.

This was the fifth facility they’d been to and the week wasn’t even over. With each facility, they went to they were met with a gradually worsening reception but this was the first one they’d been to where shots had been fired.

He didn’t even know what had started it. The first shots had gone off within the building before they’d even stepped inside and whatever started that commotion had made security hostile towards them.

Harriet had even tried to be diplomatic about it, but when the first Griever — as they’d come to call the masked guards — fired some advanced electric pulse at them all hell broke loose. It hit Brenda, sending her hurtling back through the air and into a wall. She crumpled on the floor and her pained groan was all that told them the weapon wasn’t fatal.

Newt didn’t know what was more disconcerting. The fact that WCKD had somehow got their hands on — or had managed to build — a highly modified taser that could launch a fully grown adult through the air or that they weren’t shooting to kill.

One of the grievers tried to lunge for Brenda’s twitching, but otherwise unconscious body with no weapon in hand. Jorge had shot the Griever at point-blank range but it raised the stakes.

Five people weren’t enough for WCKD.

They wanted more of them.

 _“We have to get out of here!”_ Vince yelled through their comms.

 _“We can still-_ ”

 _“Fall the fuck back!”_ Gally ordered and this time none of them argued, retreating back towards the berg. 

Jorge pulled Brenda over his shoulder, leaving one hand free for his gun and they covered him until she was safely on board.

“Where’s Gally?” Frypan asked when were all at the bottom of the cargo ramp.

“He told us to fall back,” Harriet shouted back.”I thought he was out.” 

Newt pressed the comm in his ear. “Gally, where the bloody hell are you?!” 

_“Hold on!”_

“Don’t tell me to hold on you fucking- just get here!” Newt barked, his eyes fixed on the corner of the building, the sun had set during the fight and the floodlights cast harsh shadows across the square making things harder to make out.

Gally came around the corner, dragging something behind him.

“What the hell is he doing?” Harriet asked.

“Thomas, wait-” Newt tried to reach out but Thomas was already sprinting back towards Gally. Newt went to follow but faltered, watching as Thomas pulled what Gally was dragging off the floor and between the two of them they carried a slumped body across the courtyard towards them.

“They’ve got a tail,” Vince said, already raising his gun to give them some cover but they were out of range of the Griever’s weaponry and moving too quickly.

Thomas and Gally dragged an unconscious Griever up onto the berg and the rest of them backed up so Vince could raise the ramp.

“Get us out of here, Jorge,” Harriet instructed, moving over to kneel next to Brenda who had been laid out across several seats. ”She’s breathing, but she’s totally out.” 

Newt turned back to the Griever who’d been dropped unceremoniously in a heap. Gally pulled the mask off, revealing a plain looking man just shy of middle age with a large gash across his forehead. 

Thomas moved forwards to help Gally manhandle him into an upright position, securing the Griever’s hands to one of the seatbelts above his head.

“What are we gonna do with him exactly?” Frypan asked sounding wary.

“Find out what he knows,” Gally said roughly, searching through the man’s gear. Tossing what he found on the floor further away. A sidearm, a comms unit, a large tactical knife and an unlabelled autoinjector filled with an acid green liquid.

“Gally, there are lines. If you cross some you can’t come back from it,” Vince warned.

“Yeah,” Gally scoffed, “I’m sure the people that have Minho are really worried about those lines.” 

“We can have this argument later,” Newt said, his eyes lingering on their prisoner, uncertain of where he stood on the matter, “nobody is torturing anybody on this berg and while Brenda is unconscious.” 

Gally’s head whipped around like he was going to argue but his eyes met Newt’s and he clenched his jaw. Newt held his gaze steadily, Gally’s temper hadn’t phased him in at least a decade.

After a moment, Gally deflated, anger still simmered in his eyes but he moved away from the Griever to sit by Jorge in the cockpit.

Newt looked back down at the man, who not ten minutes ago was trying to kill them or capture them for worse. It was usually so easy to pity an injured stranger but now as he looked at him, Newt felt nothing. Not anger or fear, not even disgust. 

A dark part of his mind imagined what it would take for this trained soldier to break and he wished he could wonder if any of them had it in them to actually do it. But he didn’t need to. With Minho, Sonya, Aris and Winston’s lives at stake, he knew they could and that terrified him more than any of WCKD’s experiments did.

The second the berg’s wheels touched the landing pad, they were moving. Newt hit the lever to lower the ramp and Thomas shot straight out ahead for Mary as Gally followed behind at a steadier pace, Brenda carefully cradled in his arms and they were half-way back to the cottage before Jorge had finished shutting down the jet and was out of his seat after them.

Gally laid Brenda softly on the couch at Mary’s order and quickly moved out of the way to give her space to work.

Everyone waited with bated breath, eyes transfixed on her every move. She hooked her up to two different machines, shone a light in her eyes, ears and even her mouth before Mary leant back on her heels from where she was kneeling on the floor.

“What is it?” Jorge asked anxiously.

“She was electrocuted?” Mary questioned, her brows pinched in a tight frown.

“We think so,” Thomas replied. “She was shot with something, it sparked when it hit her and threw her back a good ten feet into a wall.” 

Mary sighed, reaching back out to check the back of Brenda’s head and down her neck. “Her body is trying to deal with the aftershocks,” she said, “she hasn’t seized since she was initially hit which is good but we’ll know more once she wakes. I’m more concerned about her hitting a wall at force. She’s not bleeding, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t fractured anything or has a concussion and I don’t have the equipment to check while she’s unconscious.” 

“So what do we do?” Harriet asked, her eyes fixed on her friend’s unmoving face.

“We wait,” Mary said, looking down at her tablet’s screen. “I’ll set her up with a drip, just to keep her hydrated but if she’s not awake in half an hour, we’ll need to take her to a hospital. Even if she does wake up I wouldn’t mind getting her a couple of x-ray’s.” 

Newt looked across to Harriet for her instructions without even meaning to.

Harriet nodded. “Fifteen minutes,” she said, tearing her eyes away from Brenda to look around the room. “Fifteen minutes and we head home. Go pack. Mary, do you have a sedative?” 

Mary’s face morphed into an expression of confusion. “Yes?” 

“Good, there’s an unconscious Griever on the berg, if we’re going back to the Estate I don’t want him to wake up and know where he is.” 

An expression settled on Mary’s face that Newt couldn’t make out, but she nodded. “I’ll see to it.” 

With that, everyone dispersed back up to their rooms to pack up what little stuff they bought with them.

Newt tossed all of his clothes on the bed with his duffle bag so he could sit down while he packed. Ever since the Griever had shoved him into a wall, sharp pains would shoot up his bad leg whenever he moved or put weight on it. He was trying to ignore it but he also didn’t want to unnecessarily make it worse. It would be hurt less in a while, but all the running around they’d been doing in the past week in the sharply cold weather was bound to have an impact.

He put the last few t-shirts in his bag and let his eyes scan the room for anything he’d missed while Thomas was collecting their things from the bathroom and he sighed as his eyes came to rest on his sketchbook which was for some reason poking out from under the edge of the chest of drawers. He pushed himself off of the bed and crossed over to the dresser. With one hand resting on top of the smooth surface, Newt gritted his teeth before crouching down to pick up the book. As he straightened back up, his ankle clicked loudly and the searing pain of damaged nerves spread up his leg like fire licking at the soft tissue. Newt hissed softly in pain, his fingers curling into fists, his nails scratching at the top of the dresser.

“Was that your— Newt?!” 

Thomas was at his side in an instant, his arm sliding smoothly around his waist to take his weight. 

“I’m fine,” Newt said, mentally cursing himself at the strain in his voice. “I’m fine, I just twisted as I stood up.” 

“Yeah and that’s why you were limping more than walking up the stairs ten minutes ago?” Thomas said, that soft tone in his voice that meant he was worried but unsurprised that Newt was trying to brush away his concerns. “Come on, come sit down.” 

Newt knew better than to try and protest and instead, curled his arm around Thomas’ shoulders, balancing on him as he hopped over to the bed.

Thomas carelessly shoved the duffle bag onto the floor and lowered Newt down so he was resting back against the headboard. Newt let his head fall back against the wall, closing his eyes and tried not to tense as Thomas lifted his right leg up onto the mattress. 

“How long has it been hurting?” Thomas asked, easing the boot and sock off of Newt’s foot and Newt resisted the urge to reply ‘for the past eight years’ but instead let the facade slip away while they were within these walls.

“A couple of days,” he said, his eyes opening to look across at him, but unable to meet his eyes. “But a Griever shoved me into a wall earlier. It’s probably just pulled something.” 

Thomas’ hand slipped under the cuff of his pants leg, gently pressing a finger just above the jagged scar that ran the length of his calf. Newt hissed as Thomas’ well-practised fingers worked their way down the scar, massaging small circles in the damaged tissue. 

“You should have said something,” Thomas said as he reached the top of Newt’s heel and Newt hissed softly as his finger brushed over the scar that ran from the outside of his ankle bone, diagonally across the top of his foot. “Your ankle is twice the size it should be.” 

Newt let his eyes fall shut again so he didn’t have to see the disappointed look on Thomas’ face that went with that tone of voice. 

“It’ll heal,” he said tiredly.

“You’re gonna be no good to Minho if you can’t walk,” Thomas said, wrapping his warm hands around the top of his ankle and Newt almost smiled at the slight relief before Thomas’ words registered in his mind and a fresh wave of guilt twisted inside of him. 

It was the only thing he’d felt strongly in days and Newt didn’t know how much more of it he could take.

Minho literally pulled Newt from the darkest part of his life and it was slowly killing Newt that he couldn’t do the same in turn.

“Hey,” Thomas said softly, his hand sliding up Newt’s leg. The mattress shifted and dipped and Newt didn’t open his eyes as Thomas wound his arms around him and pulled him against his chest. “We’re going to get him back and it’s better for everyone if you’re still in one piece when we do.” 

Newt didn’t say anything, he wouldn’t even know where to start with what to say. Instead, he just let his head rest against Thomas’ collarbone, listening to the steady beat of his husband’s heart as Thomas softly combed his fingers through Newt’s hair.

“Did you even bring anything for your leg?” Thomas murmured. “Meds? Your cane? A brace?” 

“No,” Newt replied just as softly. In hindsight, it was a stupid decision but when they left his leg hadn’t yet been affected by the change of temperature and he’d gotten too comfortable with having everything within arms reach all the time; when they were packing essentials, what he needed most right now hadn’t even occurred to him. 

Thomas’ lips ghosted over Newt’s forehead. “I’ll get Mary, she’ll have something,” he said, starting to pull away. 

Newt went to protest but thought better of it at the look in Thomas’ eyes and just watched as Thomas snatched up their two duffle bags and Newt’s sketchbook before heading downstairs. Newt flicked through his phone to try and distract himself from the pain as he waited.

There were a lot of news articles about the Queen still being missing although Newt wasn’t certain how it could still be considered news when it had been nearly three weeks and as far as the press was concerned there had been no progress. There were other reports on the reconstruction that was happening at the Estate and others about when the Royal Family would return and if they were in hiding should everyone else be scared for their lives.

A lot of it was speculation and what wasn’t was just outright bullshit but there wasn’t much they could do about it from here.

The door opened again and Newt tossed his phone aside with a sigh as Thomas and Mary came back in. 

“Whatever he said is probably an overreaction,” he said as Mary perched on the edge of the bed.

“He told me your ankle was twice the size it should be which… actually looks like an understatement. May I?” She gestured down to his leg and he nodded wearily, gritting his teeth as she started her examination. After a moment, she sighed and turned to look through her bag.

“What’s the verdict, Doc?” he asked.

“I don’t think it’s fractured just very inflamed,” she said, pulling out an autoinjector, setting a vial into it. “I’ll give you a shot of an anti-inflammatory and something for the pain but I suggest you brace it when we get back and if the swelling doesn’t go down by tomorrow we’ll get some pictures.” 

“Thanks,” Newt replied, barely feeling either needle that was pressed into the back of his calf without warning.

“Brenda’s all set to go on the berg,” Mary said, putting her things back in her bag and standing up, “she’s awake but confused.” 

“We’ll be right down,” Newt said, carefully pulling his sock back on over the tender skin.

“For the record,” she said her hand resting on Newt’s shoulder. “Minho would yell at you right now for this for this. So would Sonya."

Newt looked away, resisting the urge to snap back because she was right. Minho and Sonya would be angry about what he was doing but Newt also didn’t really care if it meant they were home and safe.

Mary squeezed his shoulder before heading back downstairs. Newt pulled his boot back on but didn’t bother to tighten it as the pain meds started to flood through his system and the burning through his leg faded enough that he could stand.

Nevertheless, Thomas reached out and slid his arm around his waist and helped take his weight as they followed down after Mary. The stairs were a narrow and a little awkward to get down but if there was one thing that Newt had gotten pretty good at over the past eight years, it was managing to do things — whether well or not — on one leg.

As they made their way out to the berg, concerned looks were shot Newt’s way but it was Gally that asked.

“Are you injured?” 

Newt made a slightly self-deprecating noise. “Nothing new,” he said and they all left it at that.

Thomas helped Newt into a seat next to where Brenda was lying, an obs monitor beeping on the floor and an IV bag hooked up to the bag rack above her.

She looked up at him as she moved, her unfocused eyes drifted every couple of seconds as she smiled blearily up at him.

“How’s it going?” she asked, her words slurred together.

“Just great,” he replied, twisting slightly so he could set his leg up on the seat, his foot brushing against hers.

“You get thrown back into a wall too with a giant ass taser too?” 

Newt snorted. “Just shoved into one,” he said.

“Mmm, lucky you,” she hummed, her eyes drifting like she was trying to look at him but couldn’t quite focus in on where he was.

“Tell that to Thomas,” he murmured with a wry smile and she laughed - at least she tried to, it turned into a pained groan and she pressed her hand into the side of her ribs.

“Hey Thomas,” she called out before Newt could move to check on her, “Newt only got pushed into a wall. He’s good.” 

Thomas came stepped over from where he was talking to Harriet and looked down at her with an almost amused expression. “Should you be judging everyone else's medical condition? Do you even know what day it is?” 

Brenda swatted towards his legs but he stepped back out of her way with ease.

“Who's our new friend?” she asked, waving in the general direction where the sedated and restrained Griever was.

“We’re taking prisoners now,” Newt said tiredly, “at least Gally is.” 

Brenda grimaced. “Leverage or information?”

Thomas glanced across at Newt who looked back but didn’t answer.

“Ah,” she said softly in understanding. “Surely WCKD knows we have him by now. Wouldn’t they have changed their-” Her expression wavered as she tried to remember the word. “-addresses.” 

Thomas gave her a sympathetic smile. “We have to take the risk, he might have something.” 

“How long 'til we’re home?” she asked of replying.

Newt looked over his shoulder to Jorge who was focussed on the controls and it took Newt a second to realise they were already in the air. The meds Mary had given him had started to make his brain a little foggy and he hadn’t even noticed the cargo bay door close.

“Half an hour,” Thomas said, “there’s going to be a med team waiting and you're going to the Estate’s hospital.” 

Brenda groaned. “If they try and keep me for more than twenty four hours, come and rescue me.” 

Newt laughed. “You know, most people would be grateful they’re getting the best Doctors in the country.” 

“Yeah? And what can they do that Mary can’t?” she asked. “She has the best drugs. I can’t even feel these broken ribs.” 

“And yet they’re still there,” Mary said, coming over. “Are you in pain?” 

Brenda smiled up at her and the expression made her look drunk. “Only when I breathe or laugh or move.” 

“We’ll be home soon,” Mary assured her. “I can’t give you anything else until then.” 

Brenda nodded. “Sure thing, Doc.” 

The rest of the flight was quiet and a little tense. Nobody really knew what was waiting for them back in the real world. They didn’t know how deeply woven WCKD was through their staff. They were going in blind and Newt really didn’t like that when where they were going was home.

“Base this is Ivy Berg One, coming into land,” Jorge said through the radio and Newt pushed himself out of his seat, ignoring Thomas’ concerned look he moved to join Harriet and Jorge in the cockpit. “Requesting urgent medical response.”

_“Ivy Berg One, you’re clear to land. Medical standing by.”_

The estate came into view down below and Newt’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the trucks and building work. It all looked so out of place in the otherwise pristine grounds.

“When I said I think we should go home, this isn’t what I mean,” Harriet said sadly.

“Me neither,” Newt sighed, squeezing her hand comfortingly.

Jorge touched the berg down smoothly and as the ramp dropped everyone stood still, letting the medical team rush onboard and carefully lifting Brenda onto a stretcher and as they rushed her out the rest of them started to move. 

Gally grabbed the Griever, all but dragging him down the ramp presumably towards the holding cells as everybody else grabbed their bags and started to head inside.

There was a bustle of staff in the entrance hall and not for the first time Newt wished he could slip in the back unnoticed as they were immediately hounded by their people.

“Newt, there are new security teams around the estate, you have to sign off on them and the forms are on your desk.” 

“The kitchen wants to know if you’ll be wanting a late dinner.” 

“Harriet, you need to sign off on the new designs for the west garden once the renovations are completed.” 

“Enough!” 

Everyone, including Newt, froze at Vince’s booming voice. Newt had only heard Vince raise his voice a handful of times and most of them were in high stress combat situations, never towards members of staff.

“They’ve just got back,” Vince said in a lower tone, “let them get settled for five minutes before you hound them.” 

There was a murmuring of apologies and the staff slowly backed away, Vince following them. The rest of the group carried on up towards their rooms but they all seemed to hesitate at the top of the stairs. They’d been practically on top of each other for the past week, all constantly doing everything they could to bring their family home and now they were home without them. They hadn’t given up and they weren’t going to but it still felt uncomfortable to be somewhere so comfortable when others weren’t.

“We’ll have dinner in an hour and figure things out then,” Harriet said breaking the silence. “I’m gonna put my bag away and go down to the cells.” 

Newt nodded, “I’ll join you.” 

After another beat of hesitation, they went separate ways to their own suites.

Thomas pushed open their bedroom door and Newt dropped down heavily on his bed for a moment, hating the bittersweet feeling that being home bought. Thomas set their bags on the floor at the foot of the bed and drifted over to Newt’s side and Newt allowed himself a moment to lean into his side.

“How’s your leg feeling?” Thomas asked, his thumb brushing patterns on the back of Newt’s neck.

“Better,” he replied softly, “it doesn’t hurt as much.” 

“Good,” Thomas said and after a moment he sighed. “We should go down.” 

Newt nodded, pulling away enough that he could reach the leg brace that was lying on the floor. Once it was strapped in place and his boot was back on he and Thomas headed down to the Palace’s lower levels that contained two small holding cells and an interrogation room. They were as old as the building but rarely used now.

They turned down the corridor towards them to see Gally, Vince and Harriet talking lowly. Harriet had gotten changed since being back, her hair twisted up regally around her crown looking more like the Queen she was.

“Now that everyone is here,” Harriet said, looking sharply at Gally and Newt wondered what they’d missed in the last twenty minutes. “I’m going to talk to him.” 

“I just-” 

“No.” Harriet didn’t let Gally go on. “I’ll talk to him alone.” 

Before anyone could question her, she let herself into the interrogation room and the rest of them stepped into the neighbouring observation room, a one sided mirror separating them.

Newt let his eyes drift across the computer monitors all recording what was happening inside from various different angles before looking through the window.

The Griever was sitting on the only piece of furniture in the room, a simple chair that restrained his ankles and wrists.

Harriet stepped further into the dimly lit room, the heels of her boots clicking loudly on the floor and her crown glinted in the light.

It occurred to Newt why she’d chosen to wear her crown and more formal looking clothes. Last time this man had seen her, she’d been desperate on a battlefield, now power emanated from everything about her. She was the one in control here. Not WCKD. Not him.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, her voice echoing slightly in the hollow room.

The man tilted his head back to look at her with a smirk, his eyes were a little misty from the drugs still but he knew what was happening.

“I dunno,” he said, “the crown makes it a little hard to tell.” 

Harriet leaned back against the wall to the man’s left, making him twist uncomfortably to look at her.

“That’s almost funny,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, the motion looking surprisingly casual. “Take a guess at where you are right now.” 

The Griever looked around. “A deep dark hole where nobody will ever find me?”

“Well, that’s entirely up to you,” she said. “Now, we have the locations of six different WCKD bases and I’m asking you nicely to tell us which of them are torturing children.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

She laughed. “Then we won’t ask so nicely.” 

The man smiled. “This country doesn’t torture prisoners. You can’t touch me?” 

Harriet pushed away from the wall, stepping slowly behind him, trailing her finger down the side of his neck in an almost mocking gesture before grabbing a handful of his hair, yanking his head backwards violently. 

The man gave a small cry of surprise, his hands flexing under their restraints.

“You see-” Harriet leant down so her face was level with his ear, her voice just as gentle as before and it sent chills Newt as he watched. “-right now, I’m the highest authority. Do you know what that means?”

The Griever didn’t answer. 

She tugged on his hair harder and his face tightened as he tried and failed not to react. “Do you know what that means?” she repeated softer than before.

“What?” The Griever gritted out.

Harriet’s lips curled into a dark smirk. “It means I can change the rules. It means we can do what we like with you until you talk.” She shoved his head forwards and circled back around so her back was facing the window. “So, as they used to say, would you like the carrot or the stick?”

“Gally,” Vince said, his voice low.

“I was wrong, I know,” he said but he sounded impressed. 

“This is being recorded right?” Thomas asked. “Sonya’s gonna wanna see this.” 

Newt snorted. “It’s being recorded.” 

**\- Day Twenty One -**

It was easier to break the Griever than Newt originally anticipated, he confirmed two locations that had been a part of the human experiments within twenty-four hours.

The morning of their third day back at the Estate everybody geared up ready to hit the two bases simultaneously. Vince had rounded up his most trusted men to go with them, giving the two teams a little more of a chance.

With two broken ribs, severe bruising and a concussion, Brenda hadn’t been given medical clearance to go out and with the swelling on his leg having not gone down, neither had Newt.

He’d protested Mary’s report but at the end of the day it had been Harriet’s decision and as desperate as she was to get their people back, she didn’t want to risk anybody else. So he was stuck in the situation room, watching body camera feeds on screens and listening to their comms feeds.

Going into the field with the people he cared about was nerve wracking enough but sitting miles away behind a screen, unable to do anything if something went wrong was driving him crazy.

Every loud noise or shout set his teeth on edge, not wanting it to be the last sound he heard from someone.

Newt kept his eyes fixed on the body camera that Thomas had been made to wear, he was probably the last person he should focus on but looking away was almost painful.

It was clear from the word go that WCKD hadn’t been expecting them to hit these two targets now. There were more people than just soldiers in both buildings, there were scientists and doctors, one even had receptionists still sat at the front desk.

Their security response times were slow and by the time the gunfire started they were already well into the building.

Newt watched anxiously as Thomas, Harriet and Frypan swept through into the first building's labs. They were set out with beds, scanners and obs machines. Had it not been for the atrocities that had carried out there, it would almost be like a hospital.

 _“This is Beta Team reporting,”_ Vince’s voice came through the speaker. _“Building secured, we have… we have about two dozen children.”_ Newt’s breath caught in his throat. _“No familiar faces.”_

Newt sighed, forcing himself to focus on the two dozen children they’d just saved.

“Copy that, Beta Team,” Newt said, his fingers tapping on the desk. “Evacuate them. Hospital is standing by.” 

_“Roger.”_

He turned back to Thomas’ feed. “Alpha Team, report?” 

_“Ava Paige was here,”_ Harriet said, her voice was strained and gunfire crackling through the line. Her camera feed was stationary, firing towards Grievers but Thomas was running somewhere else. _“Thomas went after her.”_

“Thomas, what the bloody hell are you doing?” Newt asked.

 _“Hold on,”_ Thomas grunted.

“Thomas…” 

Newt watched as Thomas pushed through a door onto the roof just in time to see Ava Paige and Janson rush up the ramp of a berg, the door closing swiftly.

“Was that-” Newt broke off rewinding the footage coming from Thomas for several seconds, pausing it as Janson looked back at Thomas. Behind him and Paige were three people shackled to the seats. Newt swallowed the lump in his throat and cursed. “They were there,” he said, his voice cracked as anger burned through his system. “Minho, Sonya and Aris. I had a visual. They were on that berg.” 

The comms were quiet for a moment as everyone processed what he had said.

Harriet swore and Newt looked to her feed just in time to see her slam her fist into a wall.

 _“Can we follow the berg?”_ she asked, sounding more desperate than anything else.

Newt looked to radar scanners. “No,” he said, “they’re blocking their signal somehow.” 

_“Wait,”_ Gally spoke up for the first time, while Harriet, Thomas and Frypan had gone up in the building, he’d gone down to the cells. _“We’ve got Teresa, she said she knows where they’re going right before she passed out.”_

Newt felt a wave of nausea rise up through him as he looked at what Gally could see. His hand was under Teresa’s head on the floor and her face was… a mess. 

It looked as though she’d been badly beaten. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut and the half of her face that wasn’t crusted with dried blood was a giant, angry looking bruise.

“Get her to medical and get her awake, we need to know whatever she does,” Newt said. 

_“Copy,”_ Gally said.

Newt pushed away from the desk and ran towards the palace hospital, which also catered to a good portion of the city. 

“Sir?” The nurse at the central station rose up as he came in.

“At least two dozen kids are on their way,” he said, “we don’t know what’s been done to them.” 

The nurse’s face tightened and she reached for the tablet on the desk, pressing a single button made an alarm blare and a red light flash which in turn made people come running.

Newt left them to it, moving down the corridor to Brenda’s room.

“What’s happened?” she asked, pushing herself more upright with a slight wince.

“They found a couple of dozen kids and Teresa. Paige and Janson took Minho, Sonya and Aris right before they got there and Gally thinks Teresa knows where they’re going but she’s in no condition to say anything right now,” Newt said.

“But they’re alive?” she clarified, her eyes wide.

Newt nodded. “They looked out of it, but they’re alive.” 

“And Winston?” 

Newt’s heart clenched. “He wasn’t on the berg with the others and he wasn’t with Teresa,” he said. “We’re hoping Teresa will know where he is too.” 

Brenda bit her lip worriedly. “How long until they’re back?” 

“Ten minutes, maybe less.” 

Brenda swung her legs over the edge of the bed, pulling herself up to her feet.

“Bren-” 

“Don’t.” 

Newt closed his mouth and instead offered her a stabilising hand as she slid her feet into her sneakers.

They headed back out towards the front desk just in time to see nurses run through with children in wheelchairs and on gurneys. The ones who didn't look drugged within an inch of consciousness were looking around with wide, fear-filled eyes.

"Holy shit…" Brenda murmured as she took in the scene and Newt silently agreed.

What was usually a rarely used emergency centre had suddenly turned into a war zone. Doctors and nurses were calling out to each other, carts of equipment were being rushed between beds and observation machines blared wildly.

"Newt! Here!" 

Both Brenda and Newt whipped around at the sound of urgency in Gally's tone. He was jogging alongside a stretcher and it took Newt a sick second to realise that it was Teresa lying on the bed. 

Her face looked worse than it did on the pixelated body camera. One of her arms had been strapped to her chest with a sling and the other laid next to her, her fingers bloodied and bent out oddly.

Whereas most of the other children's injuries looked as though they'd been caused by medical procedures, Teresa looked as though she'd been brutalised, multiple times. Patches of her head were bare and blood stained like handfuls of hair had been ripped out at the root.

Newt remembered a time not that long ago where they'd considered Teresa being apart of their friends abductions and guilt clenched inside of him. While they'd been blaming her, WCKD had been torturing her. 

They pushed her bed into a bright, private room and she started to stir, scrunching up her face to try and get away from the glaring lights.

“Teresa? Can you hear me?” the nurse said, her voice raised slightly.

Teresa’s mouth moved like she was trying to reply but all that came out was a broken groan.

The nurses face tightened and she reached out to drag a cart closer, carefully inserting a cannula into an unbruised vein. 

“I know you need to talk to her,” she said, mostly addressing Newt, “but I’m giving her something for the pain which hopefully will relax and then we need to get some scans.” 

Newt nodded and they all watched tensely as the nurse injecting a large syringe of clear liquid into Teresa’s arm and they waited with bated breath for a couple of minutes before Teresa’s body seemed to sag into the bed slightly.

“Teresa? Are you with us?” the nurse tried again and this time Teresa’s eyelashes fluttered before they opened as much as they could. Her right eye was swollen completely shut but her left opened enough that her eye could dart around frantically. “You’re okay, sweetheart. Your safe now. You’re in an actual hospital.” 

Teresa’s eye landed on Newt and it welled with tears as she looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely even managing a whisper. “I’m so sorry.” 

Newt stepped closer to her bed, wanting to reach out and comfort her in some way but not wanting to hurt her more. “For what?” he asked instead. “What happened?”

Tears ran back into her matted hair, leaving clear trails through the blood and grime. 

“It was my fault,” she said, her voice a little stronger but hoarse, “this is all my fault.” 

Newt shook his head, unable to believe that she purposely put herself in a position to be hurt like this. “You didn’t do this,” he tried to assure her but he really didn’t know what to say to make any of this better. “Ava Paige and Janson took the others before we could get there. Gally said you know where they’re going.” 

Teresa nodded, a desperate look on her face. “They’re outside the walls,” she croaked before swallowing with a wince. The nurse carefully put a plastic straw against her lips, letting her take a couple of sips of water before she kept going. “In the Scorch. They have a facility…” As the painkillers started to take more of a hold, her eyes back more unfocused and it looked as though she was forcing herself to stay awake as more tears rolled down her face. “-61.26173. -83.19703.” 

“What’s she saying?” Brenda asked.

“They’re coordinates,” Gally said, pulling his phone out of his pocket, muttering the numbers to himself as he typed them in. “Twenty miles out into the Scorch, beyond the walls.” 

Teresa gave a bleary nod. “Go,” she whispered, her eyes drifting. “Hurry.” 

As gently as he could, Newt brushed her hair back from her face. “Thank you,” he said but she was already out. He turned back to Gally. “Get the others back here. We leave as soon as we have everybody.” 

“Newt, you can’t-”

“I’m coming,” he said, his voice harsh. After weeks of fear and anxiety, he finally knew where his brother and sister were and nobody was going to get in his way as he brought them home. 

Gally held his gaze for a moment but when he realised he wasn’t going to win any ground, he reached for his comm. “All teams, what’s your status?” 

_“Alpha Berg Two, five minutes out,”_ Thomas’ voice crackled through the radio.

 _“Beta Berg One, ten minutes out,”_ Vince reported.

 _“Beta Berg Two, ten minutes out,”_ Frypan said.

“Get back here, we’ve got a location but we need all hands,” Gally said.

There was a beat of silence and for a second Newt didn’t think they’d heard him.

 _“You know where they are?”_ Harriet asked, apparently having stolen Thomas’ radio. _“Are you sure?”_

“Teresa gave us a location,” Brenda said, her voice slightly louder so she could be heard from the computer station she was stood at, “satellite images show three bergs landing there ten minutes ago.” 

_“We’re on our way.”_

_._

Four bergs soared through the air in formation, none of them willing to take the chance of doing anything at less than full speed. 

Inside Alpha Berg One, a tense silence filled the air. They all vibrated with anticipation, ready for whatever revenge they could get. But more importantly, they were all ready for this to be over.

Like him, Brenda had refused to stay behind so Harriet had agreed that she could come so long as she didn’t leave the berg and Brenda took that over nothing.

The berg touched down on the ground and Newt’s grip shifted on his rifle as they waited for the ramp to drop.

He looked across at Thomas, who was already looking back at him. His jaw was set but there was a soft desperation in his eyes that resonated with something deep inside of Newt. 

The bergs touched down and they all rushed down the ramps, weapons raised and poised for a fight as they took cover. Jorge pulled the berg back up, circling around as a large magnetic clamp was lowered down, attaching itself to the hanger door loudly. Newt covered his face as metal creaked and the door was wrenched back with a spray of sparks and Jorge's cheer was drowned out by gunfire as they were met with the first -and surprisingly small - wave or Grievers. 

Alarms blared through the hanger and mixed with the sounds of bullets ricocheting off of cars and WCKD begs, Newts ears rang as he and Thomas slipped past the Grievers and into a corridor unnoticed.

They followed it round to a set of elevators and a staircase and they stepped inside a waiting one, scanning the list on the wall for different levels.

Labs were listed as being on level three so Thomas jammed his finger on that button, his leg bouncing anxiously as the elevator didn't rise quickly enough. The doors opened and they stepped out into a sea of people, all running in opposite directions. Most of them seemed to be lab staff, with pristine white coats and tablets tucked in the crook of their arms and so they ducked into the panicked crowd, trying to go unnoticed in the crush.

"You there! Stop!" 

Thomas dove around a corner sharply, grabbing Newt's arm to take him with him and they didn't stop to look back at the Grievers chasing after them. Bullets bounced off the surfaces around them and Newt covered his head instinctively as he ducked into a doorway for cover. Thomas did the same on the opposite side of the corridor as they returned fire. Thankfully, the two previous raids of the day had seemed to have diminished WCKD's troops and it wasn't hard to take down a few more.

As the last Griever hit the floor, neither Thomas nor Newt were going to wait for the backup to arrive as they carried on the way they'd been running, weaving through corridor after corridor that were all starting to look the same. 

They followed a stretch around the corner and Newt grabbed Thomas’ arm for balance as they skidded to a stop. 

They were there.

At the other end of the corridor, Minho and Sonya were staggering towards them, half carrying Aris between them and Newt felt relief rush through the adrenaline for the first time in a month. 

Minho had blood running down from his elbow like he’d pulled out tubes without much care, his cheeks hollow and skin pale which made the dark bruises under his eyes seem so much worse.

Sonya’s matted hair had been shaved jaggedly behind one of her ear and whatever they’d done to her had been stitched up. She looked so much thinner than she had, the muscles that had once toned her arms were gone and now her arms shook in the effort to hold Aris up.

And Aris… Aris was slumped between them, his eyes unfocussed behind the developing bruises. Every time he tried to push himself up on his own two feet, his legs would shake and his knees would buckle.

They all stood in front of each other for a moment before simultaneously launching themselves forward into each other's arms.

“Are you real?” Minho asked, his fingers curling into Newt’s shoulder. “Are you actually here?” 

“We’re here,” Thomas said. “We’re here. We’re getting you out.” 

Newt pressed his lips against Sonya’s head before they pulled away to check on Aris.

“He’s okay,” Sonya said, her voice thick with tears. “He fought back when they tried to move us here, a guard beat him up before they sedated him. But I think he’s okay.” 

“Here, swap,” Thomas said, pressing one of his guns into Sonya’s hands to slip under Aris’ shoulder. When Newt looked to Minho to do the same he shook his head.

“I’ve got him.” 

Newt pressed his comm on. “We’ve got them. Minho, Sonya and Aris. We’ve got them and are coming out.” 

_“They’re okay?!”_ Harriet asked and Sonya’s head shot up, tears spilling down her cheeks at the sound of her voice.

“We’re okay,” Sonya called out. “We’re coming.” 

_“Minho?!”_

Newt looked to Minho at Gally’s voice, his eyes widened fractionally and his lips twitched. Before this had all happened Minho and Gally had been close, they always had been and after Minho had been taken Gally’s temper had flared violently.

“Yeah.” Minho cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m here.” 

There was a scuffle through the radio like Gally had hit someone. _“Where are you? I’ll come to you.”_

“Don’t answer that.” 

Minho’s face paled at the cold voice and they all turned. 

They’d all been so caught up in themselves that none of them had heard Jason approach. He stood at the end of the corridor, gun pointed towards them.

 _“Minho? Newt?”_ Gally called out, alarm slipping into his voice.

“Turn it off,” Janson said and slowly Newt and Thomas reached up simultaneously to turn their radio’s off. “And put the guns on the floor.” 

Moving cautiously, Newt lowered his rifle to the floor and he took the gun from Sonya’s hands to do the same with as she winced when she went to bend over.

“Alright.” Janson nodded, glancing back over his shoulder like he didn’t know what he was going to do next. “Now walk that way.” 

He moved closer as they started edging down the corridor and when he was within arms reach, he grabbed Sonya roughly, ignoring her cry of pain as he shoved his gun against her head.

“We’re going alright,” Newt said, his eyes darting back over his shoulder. “Let her go.” 

“Keep moving,” Jason said.

“I’m okay,” Sonya said, her face level and jaw set despite the way her chest heaved for breath.

They walked further down the corridor and it became even clearer that Janson had no real plan.

“Where are we going?” Thomas asked once they reached the end and it forked in opposite directions.

“Left, move.” 

They turned left into the next corridor, walking past glass-walled labs with trays of surgical equipment and syringes filled with God knows what and Newt’s eyes were drawn to Minho’s trembling hand on Aris’ back.

“In here. Go.” Janson shepherded them into the end lab, shoving Sonya forward as he closed the door.

She staggered forward into a metal table and as she straightened herself up Newt tried not to pay attention to the small greying hand hanging out from under a sheet on the other side of the room.

“What now?” Sonya asked, angling her body in front of Aris and Minho.

With the hand not holding the gun on them, Janson pulled his own radio off of his belt and held it up to his mouth.

“This is Janson. I’ve got the prisoners in the corner lab on the east wing. Level three,” he said.

 _“Copy,”_ a male voice replied. _“We’ll be right- Hey! What are you-”_

The man’s voice broke off with a gurgling choked noise and Janson’s face tightened as control slipped even further from his grasp.

“Your backup’s not coming, asshole,” Minho said, not seeming to care as Janson’s eyes flashed and his face reddened.

“You can’t kill us,” Sonya said, her voice flat. “Ava needs us alive and by the look of it, we’re all you’ve got left. You can’t experiment on dead people.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Newt saw Thomas shift. At first he thought he was just shifting his grip on Aris but he knew Thomas’ movements too well for him to be doing that but he couldn’t turn to see what he was doing without alerting Janson.

“What are you even looking for?” Newt asked, drawing the attention back to him.

“To cure illness,” Janson replied making Newt’s frown deepen.

“But what illness?” 

Janson’s lips twitched. “All illnesses.”

Newt felt his face pale as his lips parted in shock. “You can’t be serious.” 

Behind him, Minho scoffed. “Oh, they are.” 

“Where do you think your vaccines come from?” Janson asked. “We used to test on animals, but there were too many variables then. Different species hold different genetic codes after all, but if we trialled them on humans instead… then they’re more accurate faster.” 

Science and biology in general had never particularly been Newt’s strongest subjects in school but he was still certain that there were other ways to do this.

“But the children are healthy,” Newt said, “you can’t cure people of illnesses they don’t have.” 

“Of course not,” Janson said, “we incubate different strains of different viruses and diseases and first study how they affect different people. Then we look at what treats them before we can develop a vaccine for others.” 

“Why children?” he went on to ask as he saw Thomas put his hand on Sonya’s shoulder to slowly guide her out of the way. “Why do you mostly do this to children?” 

“Their immune systems work differently to adults,” Janson replied, “and they’re easier to contain.” 

“And us?” Sonya asked coldly. “Were we easier to contain?” 

Janson’s lips quirked in a smile. “A miscalculation on our part. But it was worth it for your-” he faltered as he looked towards her. Thomas was no longer behind her holding up Aris. While Janson had been gloating like a cliche supervillain, Thomas had slowly crept around to the side of them so as soon as Janson hesitated, Thomas dove forward. 

He slammed Janson back into a cabinet that shattered as they struggled.

Both Sonya and Newt rushed towards the tray’s of surgical equipment, grabbing for scalpels. 

A single shot rang out in the room and Newt’s heart jumped as both Thomas and Janson froze. For half a second Newt thought Thomas had managed to get the gun away from his attacker, but a deep red pool started to seep through the back of Thomas’ shirt just seconds before he staggered back.

The scalpel fell from Newt’s fingers as he reached for his husband. His hands closed around his shirt, pulling Thomas towards him to break his fall and as they both went down a sharp pain shot up through Newt’s leg from his foot, but he barely noticed as Thomas slumped down on top of him, gasping for air.

Newt shoved Thomas’ jacket aside, pressing his hands against the bullet wound in his side as slick blood bubbled up between his fingers.

Someone else cried out and Newt’s eyes darted towards the sound just in time to see Sonya slice deep into Janson’s arm with the scalpel she was holding. The gun fell to the floor and as he tried to catch it, she kicked his knee’s out from under him and as he hit the floor, Sonya’s blade glinted dangerously against his throat.

“Here.” 

Suddenly Minho was on Thomas’ other side, pressing gauze he’d grabbed from somewhere under Newt’s fingers.

Thomas groaned in pain, his eyes fluttering shut Newt slid his hand underneath him to try and stem the bleeding from the exit wound.

“Thomas, stay awake,” Minho said, his voice urgent as he yanked Thomas’ radio off of his jacket with one hand, the other pressed to his friend’s abdomen. 

Newt cupped Thomas face with his free hand, leaving a smear of bloody fingerprints down his pailing skin. “Hey, Tommy, look at me. Open your eyes and stay awake!” he demanded and Thomas looked back up at him, his brown eyes unfocused and distant.

“I need a medical team to the end lab in the northeast corridor on level three,” Minho said into the radio. “I repeat, I need a medical team to the northeast corridor on level three. Gunshot wound. Thomas is down!” 

The crackled replies were drowned out as Janson made a noise of laughter. 

“Shut up!” Sonya snapped sharply.

“His mother bled out in a similar way,” Janson said and Newt’s head shot up to glare at him. The scalpel in Sonya’s unwavering hand was pressing into his throat hard enough that a trail of blood streamed down onto his chest but he looked unbothered, calm even. “Although of course, it was a piece of metal that cut through her chest, not a bullet.” 

“Wha-” Thomas groaned and Newt looked back down at him desperately. He didn't need to hear this. Not now. Not if he was-

"It's a slow way to bleed out if you don't remove the object," Janson went on. "You should have seen the look on her-"

Janson's words broke off as he made a choked gurgling noise and Newt risked a glance back up just in time to see him slump to the floor, a scalpel stuck out of the side of his windpipe.

“Let’s see how long it takes,” Sonya said, her voice icier that Newt had ever heard it. There was a sickening crunch as she stomped on the man’s uninjured hand to stop him pulling the blade away before she stepped over him to grab a box of gauze on the shelf against the wall, she knelt down next to them, letting Thomas’ head rest on her legs as if she hadn’t just stabbed a man.

“What did he say?” Thomas asked, his voice a strained whisper. 

“Don’t worry now,” Newt said, trying to keep his shaking hands pressing against the wound. “Just keep looking at me.” 

“Newt,” Thomas said. Reaching up with trembling fingers to brush against Newt’s cheekbone. 

Newt leant into the touch. “I’m right here.” 

“Newt,” Thomas said again, this time more of a gasp as his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Thomas!” Newt all but sobbed, forcing himself to press down harder still. “Wake up. Please. Tommy, please!” 

Thomas’ hand fell away from Newt’s face and it seemed to fall down through the air in slow motion before it hit the floor.

“Thomas!” 

“Hey, hey! Thomas!” 

Newt and Minho shouted out at the same time as Sonya scrambled to pull his collar aside to press her fingers against the side of his neck.

“Sonya!” 

“Minho!” 

Newt couldn’t tear his eyes away from Thomas’ unmoving face as new voices filled the room. People fell around them and Newt elbowed someone back as they tried to move Thomas away from him. 

Hands grabbed onto him, and Newt tried to kick out as he was dragged back off of the floor and strong arms pinned him back against the wall as Mary took his place on the floor.

When fighting became futile, Newt was frozen in place, barely aware when Gally, Frypan and Minho’s hands on him went from restraining to comforting because he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Thomas.

A field obs machine was put next to Thomas’ head, blocking Newt’s view from his face and it forced Newt to stare at the flat line that trailed across the screen.

Newt’s own heartbeat pounded in his ears and after what felt like an age, the line jumped. Zigzagging up and down again and again in a fast but steady rhythm.

He had a pulse.

He was alive.

Relief rushed away the desperation and the adrenaline and Newt’s brain finally registered the searing pain shooting up through his leg just a second before his knees buckled.

He was lowered slowly down to the floor. Someone was behind him, keeping his body upright as the people on either side just held him from scrambling back across the floor.

All Newt could do was sit and watch as Mary and another Doctor worked on stopping the bleeding.

At some point, a stretcher was waved in and Newt was pulled back to his feet as Thomas was raised up onto a gurney. He broke through the grip of those that were holding him and staggered towards the bed, clutching the rail in one hand and Thomas’ fingers with the other, unable to let go of either as they headed back down the corridor.

It wasn’t until they were back on the berg and Newt was forced into the seat next to Thomas’ stretcher did the world start to come back into focus around him.

Brenda was sat next to him, one of his hands in her lap as she gently wiped the blood away. Next to Thomas’ head, Mary stroked back his hair with tears in her eyes as she looked down at him, as if feeling Newt’s gaze on her, she looked down at him with a watery smile.

“He’s going to be okay,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “He’s stable.” 

Newt swallowed thickly and forced himself to nod. For the first time in weeks, he noticed how his body ached tiredly and just turning to his head to look around the berg made his head hurt.

Across from him, Sonya, Harriet and Aris were all sitting on the floor, half on top of each other as they cried.

Aris looked more alert than he had before, his eyes wide like he was scared to let them droop as he twitched at the slightest of noise.

Minho was sitting on the seat next to them, close enough that Sonya could lean against his leg as she dosed but he was pressed just as firmly against Gally’s side, his head resting on his shoulder and on Gally’s other side, sat Frypan. He was far enough down that from his turned position he could look down the berg over his friends with a protective warmth in his eyes. At the opposite end of the row of seats, Brenda mirrored his position, her hands pressed against the side of her ribs as she breathed.

A lump started to form in Newt’s throat as he thought of those who weren’t there.

“What-” He cleared his throat slightly, drawing everyone’s quiet attention to him. “What happened to Winston?” 

Minho’s eyes fell to the floor and Frypan ran a weary hand across his face and Newt realised they’d already had this conversation, he just couldn’t remember it.

“They gave him a virus,” Sonya said softly, “and when they tried to treat him, his body reacted badly. He was in so much pain that we- we stole some meds and helped him overdose.”

Newt closed his eyes, his mind flashing back to being on top of a wall, the feeling of falling and then-

The feeling of relief that had been surging up inside of him dimmed slightly as he pictured Winston’s smile and the sound of his friends laugh echoed in his head. Newt fell back heavily in his seat as grief seeped back inside of him.

“Gally said you found Teresa,” Minho said softly and Aris slowly looked up, his eyes widening still.

“She’s alive?” he asked.

“She was when we came to get you,” Brenda said, a hopeful note in her voice.

Aris nodded, a conflicted look on his face. “We thought they killed her.” 

Frypan shook his head slightly. “She’s the only reason we found you.” 

Sonya looked down at her and Harriet’s joined hands. “I’m glad she’s alive,” she said softly and there was a note of something else in her voice that made Newt simultaneously curious what had happened to them over the past few weeks and wondered if he really wanted to know. They all seemed closer than they had done previously but that closeness had come at a terrible cost.

Newt turned back to Thomas, watching the gradual but steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept.

The flight back to the Estate seemed such a shorter journey than the long, tense one over the wall. Jorge called out to the Estate when they were five minutes out and everyone started to shift and stretch to wake themselves up.

Newt leant closer to Thomas as they started to descend, brushing his thumb over the smear of blood his own desperate fingers had left across his cheek. He looked so peaceful. Probably the most peaceful Newt had seen him since long before even the coronation.

The sedative Mary had given him allowed him to rest for once without being plagued by nightmares or anxiety. 

Newt's fingers trailed down Thomas' cheek, tracing the sharp line of his jaw.

He'd been so close to losing him.

If Mary had been a couple of minutes longer, Newt was certain he and Minho wouldn't have been enough to keep alive by sheer force of will alone.

Silently Newt vowed to never take the things he had for granted again.

Not Thomas, nor his family or safety. Even the memories he had of a warm, secure childhood and the pain of his darkest days was so much more than WCKD's prisoners had been allowed. 

When Newt had been at his lowest, between the third surgery to repair his leg and only Minho to confide in about the truth, he'd still been safe.

His tomorrow had always been assured and his time safe, surrounded by loved ones and Doctor's committed to making him better, not worse.

Winston had be allowed none of that. 

He'd had days, maybe weeks of torture by people who should have helped him. Left in agony and fear for long enough that it drove him to…

The berg touched down on the ground and the calm was gone. Mary shouted instructions out to the medics and Newt had to move quickly to not have Thomas’ hand wrenched from his own. He didn’t understand much of what they were saying but Mary’s voice didn’t seem as urgent as it had and Newt took that as a good sign.

Thomas’ fingers slipped through his as the bed was surrounded and a rush of people started working.

Nobody asked him to leave, so Newt stepped back out of their way but get his eyes focussed on Thomas’ face, not wanting to see the mess as they peeled the bandages away.

He didn’t know how long he’d stood there, the time started to blend together and his mind started to slip away from reality slightly.

Newt flinched slightly as Mary put her hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed her walking over. She gave him a warm smile, brushing her thumb against his cheek tenderly.

“He’s going to be okay,” she assured him, “the sedative is going to be wearing off soon. You can sit with him until then.” 

She guided him over with a gentle hand on his shoulder until he sat down on the chair next to the bed, reaching out to take Thomas’ hand again, his thumb brushing tenderly over the golden ring on husband’s finger.

“Hey.” 

Newt glanced back over his shoulder as Minho stepped into the room. His hair fell flat and wet against his forehead and he was wearing clothes that looked three sizes too big for him with a hoodie that looked suspiciously like Gally’s.

“Hey,” Newt replied, “how’re you doing?”

Minho nodded, coming to lean against the side of Newt’s chair, resting his hands on his shoulders and Newt leaned back into his touch. “I’ll be fine,” he said, “how’s the patient?” 

Newt let his eyes drift back to Thomas, his lips twitching slightly. “He’s gonna be fine,” he said. 

“Give it a day and he’ll be running about causing shit again,” Minho said with a slight laugh. “Maybe he’ll think next time before he runs at a guy with a gun.” 

“He won’t.” Newt shook his head, but he couldn’t help the fondness that warmed in his chest. “He’ll just run faster next time and hope he can outrun the bullet."

"You're not wrong," Minho snorted, "fucking idiot." But there was nothing but warmth in his voice.

"Nice hoodie by the way," Newt commented casually after a moment, glancing up to see Minho's cheeks flush and his mouth open in protest.

"Thanks," he said, something hesitant in his voice and Newt gave him a moment to see if he wanted to go on. "He said we should wait, let me settle in at home again before we rush into something but I-" 

"Don't want to risk missing the chance," Newt finished for him, his eyes fixed on Thomas with understanding.

"Yeah."

Newt bought his hand up to rest on Minho's and squeezed it slightly. 

"Then tell him that," he said, looking up at his best friend. "Talk to each other and you'll figure it out."

Minho's dark eyes were distant and glassy and Newt just held his hand as he silently went through whatever was on his mind. 

In bed, Thomas stirred, a soft groan passed through his lips and he frowned slightly as he opened his eyes to the light. His fingers curled tighter around Newt’s as he looked blearily across at him. 

“Hey,” Newt said softly as Minho stepped around him to sit on the edge of Thomas’ bed. “You with us?”

Thomas swallowed, his eyebrows furrowing in a soft frown that Newt forced himself not to find adorable given the circumstances. Thomas hummed sleepily and nodded

“What happened?” he asked, “Janson-” 

“Is dead,” Minho said.

“And Ava Paige is in custody,” Newt finished. “WCKD’s been completely shut down.” 

Thomas nodded, pushing himself up slightly with a wince.

“Hey, hey.” 

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” 

Minho and Newt spoke as one, both reaching out to stop him climbing out of bed.

“I need to talk to her,” he said, “Ava Paige. I need to speak to her.” 

Newt’s frown deepened. “Whatever you think is so important can wait, alright? She’ll still be there when you don’t have a hole in your side,” he said.

Thomas stared at him, his eyes burning with something angry and fearful. It was an emotion that was usually buried under layers of repression and social etiquette.

“I’m gonna give you a minute,” Minho said, not even bothering with one of his usual terrible excuses for when he wanted to get out of a conversation. He squeezed Thomas’ leg, patted Newt on the shoulder and slid off of the bed and out of the room smoothly.

Newt’s eyes didn’t waver from Thomas’ as he pulled himself up to sit on the bed facing Thomas without letting go of his hand.

“Tommy,” Newt started gently. “She’s still going to be there in a couple of days to give you answers.” 

Thomas’ eyes glazed over with a distant and haunted expression. “Did he say anything else about her? Does Chuck know?”

Newt shook his head. “No. No. Sonya didn’t give him the chance and we don’t even know if what he said was true,” he said, but he even doubted his own words. “And no. Nobody’s told Chuck, he’s been too worried about you to hear anything else anyway.” 

A look of guilt passed over Thomas’ face like he was just now remembering that his little brother was probably worried about him and he hadn’t even checked on him.

“Where is he?”

Newt gave a small, comforting smile, easing him back down against the cushions taking his own comfort at the slightly less pinched look on his husband’s face. “Sitting in the corridor with the others last I saw,” he replied. “Mary wouldn’t let him in here while they were working on you and that’s the closest he could get.” 

Thomas huffed a slight laugh. “Can I see him?” 

“Of course.” Newt stood up, stretching up as his back cracked. He’d forgotten how uncomfortable hospital chairs are. “Just him or the hoard of others too?” 

“Give us a minute?” 

Newt nodded, leaning back across to press a soft yet not chaste kiss against Thomas’s, they were dry and chapped from the oxygen mask but Newt didn’t care. At least he was alive and breathing. They separated with a soft smile. “Sure, I’ll be in the hall.” 

“Okay.” 

Newt stepped out into the corridor, smiling down at Chuck’s expectant wide eyed look. “He’s waiting to see you,” he said, ruffling his brother-in-law’s hair as he all but ran into the hospital room. Newt just about saw Chuck launch himself into Thomas’ arms before he closed the door to give them their privacy.

He turned back to their waiting friends and stepped forward straight into Minho’s waiting arms.

Minho hugged him tightly and Newt clung to him with just strongly, his face pressed into his shoulder as he tried to remember how to breathe again.

“How is he?” Gally asked from where he was leaning back against the wall.

Newt nodded as he and Minho pulled apart. “He’ll be fine. How’re you?” He looked across at the others who were all slumped across the chairs in various states of exhaustion but unwilling to move.

“We’re alright,” Brenda said raising her head from where it was resting on Jorge’s shoulder. “They’ve discharged all non-critical patients so they’ve got space for the kids. We’re good to leave.” 

“Do we know what’s gonna happen to them yet?” he asked.

Sonya and Harriet exchanged a look.

“Those who still have families are going to be contacted but we’re setting up a refugee centre for the others,” Sonya said softly, “hopefully we can get them proper homes in time.” 

“Until then, they’re all staying here,” Harriet went on, “a lot of them are still ill and we don’t know why. While the ones that aren’t are understandably refusing to leave their friends.” 

Newt gave a sad smile, something sickening twisting inside of him at the thought of terrorised children refusing to let go of each other.

**\- Day Twenty Three -**

Two days later, Thomas was finally discharged from the hospital and it was probably a good thing too as he was planning on leaving that evening anyway. In that time the Estate - and half the country - had been in a frenzy. 

A vague statement had gone out about WCKD. Just enough to say that there had been casualties when trying to rescue nearly two hundred tortured children who had been found being held prisoner and that they and the missing members of the Royal Family were safe back at the Estate, receiving medical and psychiatric treatment.

WCKD had been such an embedded and trusted part of the country that it’s downfall and the thousands of arrests of it’s staff had been a problem in itself. It cast a cloud across the medical and scientific research community, nobody was certain what drugs were made by children dying and a lot of ethical questions were being asked that nobody really had the answers too.

And then there were the children who had survived.

Some of them were so young that they didn’t even know their names, just the case code that WCKD had assigned them and with them not knowing who they were, most of them didn’t know where they’d come from. The only life they’d known was inside a WCKD facility.

Dozens of people had come forward, each with stories of their child's disappearance, some dating back from over a decade ago. A team of lawyers, doctors and social workers had been put together to take DNA samples from the families to try and match them with the children’s while it was someone else’s job to try and identify the files of the deceased patients to try and notify the correct people. It was going to be a long process, but if even a few families could happily be reunited, then that was something.

Newt lent against the door to his hospital room, watching as Thomas tied his boot laces. 

There were a thousand things Newt needed to be doing right now and a hundred other files on his desk that he had to pass on to other people but instead his eyes were fixed on Thomas as the only thing between him and Ava Paige’s cell. Since she’d been taken into custody, she’d said nothing to anybody. She hadn’t asked for an attorney, she hadn’t even asked for a bathroom break. She’d just sat, lips pursed tightly as she stared straight ahead.

Frustration was growing through the security team at her silence and the air was growing even tenser throughout the higher levels of the Estate. They wanted answers. They needed a reason that made all of it worthwhile.

The other members of WCKD who’d been arrested had either also remained silent or hadn’t stopped talking, doing everything they could to blame other people and because nobody had anything to compare their stories to, they had to listen. 

Aside from Ava Paige, Teresa was the only person they trusted to give an informed answer but she’d been through four surgeries and was due to have two more. Her medically induced coma left her in no position to tell anybody anything.

Newt followed Thomas down the corridor that led out of the hospital wing and back into the main palace. Neither of them said anything for several minutes until Newt finally sighed.

“The Yuletide Ball is still happening,” he said casually, “the council were in favour of cancelling it, all things considered, but Sonya’s certain it should go ahead. All money raised is going to WCKD’s victims.” 

“The twenty-third?” Thomas asked and a part of Newt was surprised he’d even been listening. 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Two weeks.”

“I’ll get my shoes shined,” Thomas said flatly and Newt resisted the urge to laugh.

The Yuletide Ball had happened every December 23rd for hundreds of years. Every Christmas would start with the royal family celebrating the past year and looking forward to the next. It was also the event that gave them all enough publicity so that they’d be left alone by the media and everybody else over the holidays.

They took the elevator down to the holding cells in a tense silence, Ava Paige and the other most senior members of WCKD were being held at the palace until the Royal Investigation was over. Newt didn’t know where this was going to go or if it was even going to go anywhere but he wasn’t going to stop Thomas from trying.

Thomas hesitated outside the interrogation room and Newt squeezed his hand, quietly offering whatever comfort he could before Thomas took a deep breath and turned the door handle. 

Newt stepped into the viewing room where Vince, Gally, Minho and a grim looking Aris were already waiting.

“How is he?” Minho asked as on the other side of the glass Thomas moved into the dimly lit room.

“We’re about to see,” Newt said, his eyes resting on Ms Paige. She looked so much more tired than she ever did in any of WCKD’s press moments, her face void of red lipstick and her hair straggly and unwashed past her shoulders. But there was still a steel in her eyes and a tilt in her chin that didn’t bode well for an easy conversation. 

Her head tipped back as she looked up at Thomas, her lips curving in something between a smirk and a smile.

“Thomas,” she said as though they were meeting in a coffee shop and she wasn’t cuffed to a chair. “It’s good to see you again. How are you? How’s your brother? What was his name again? Charles?”

“We’ve met before?” Thomas asked a quiet, dangerous, note in his voice. 

“A long time ago,” Ms Paige said, “the last time I saw you was at your mother’s funeral.” 

“So she did work for you?” Thomas went on. “She worked for WCKD?”

Ms Paige’s smile grew. “Worked for us? She was one of our best scientists. Her and Mary both, we wouldn’t be where we are if it wasn’t for them,” she said.

Vince’s breath hitched audibly but Newt didn’t look away from the interrogation room.

“What did she do for you?” he asked and Newt watched as the muscles in his shoulders tightened anxiously.

“She was the head of our BioMedical Department,” she said, “but she wasn’t as… eager as others to move onto the testing stage of our research.” 

“You mean the human trials?” Thomas clarified. “The human trials where you kidnapped and tortured innocent children?” 

Ms Paige’s lips thinned. “Any medication you’ve ever taken has at some point been tested on humans for the first time. On children for the first time. That risk is a necessary one for any medical advancement.” 

“Lot’s of medical advancements are made without murdering children,” Thomas fired back. “So, she protested human experimentation and you fired her?” 

“She resigned,” Ms Paige said evenly.

“And then what?” 

“And then she resigned.” 

Neither of them said anything for a moment before Thomas shifted. “Who was she going to tell?” he asked softly. “That’s why Janson killed her right? Because she was going to tell someone what you were doing.” 

Ms Paige’s faces soured but she tilted her head to the side consideringly.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Are you worried about adding to your sixty-three life sentences?” 

Her eyes narrowed but she conceded. “Janson had the concerns and whether he acted on them or not was not mine to control.” 

Thomas rolled his shoulders back and for a second Newt didn’t know what he was going to do. 

“I’m sorry that his decision cost you your mother.” 

Thomas slid his shaking hands into his pockets as he seemed to pull himself together. “But you’re not though,” he said levelly. “If you were sorry about taking away people’s family members, she would have been the last person you killed, not the first.” 

Anger flashed through Ms Paige’s face but Thomas was already turning to leave.

Newt reached for the door and stepped into the corridor at the same time Thomas did.

“Tommy…” Newt trailed off, not even knowing what to say.

Thomas’ pressed his forehead against the cool slate bricks, his shoulders shaking as he tried to breathe.

“Tommy,” Newt repeated softer, resting a hand on Thomas’ shoulder before giving in entirely and pulling him into his arms.

Thomas pressed his face into Newt’s shoulder and all Newt could do was hold him as he worked through it.

Newt was half aware of Vince and Aris moving past and further down the corridor while Minho and Gally waited.

After a moment, Thomas pulled away, leaning back heavily against the wall. One hand clutched Newt’s tightly and the other ran tiredly across his face.

“I have to tell Chuck,” he said, “it doesn’t change anything but…” 

“It still matters,” Minho said quietly.

Thomas nodded. “What happens now?” 

“Everyone that we’re detaining will be turned over to the appropriate authorities this afternoon,” Gally said, “the rest is in the hands of the lawyers. They expect several life sentences each for murder, kidnapping, assault, medical assault and more. Some people are calling for the return of the death penalty.” 

“Sonya won’t budge on that,” Newt said. 

“She did for Janson,” Minho pointed out and Newt shot him a sharp look.

“That was different,” he replied. “Nobody is going to try and argue she crossed a line.” 

And anybody that did would have a long, powerful line of people to argue against.

**\- Day Twenty Nine -**

Newt shot upright as the first panicked scream echoed through the halls. By the time the second rang out, he was out of bed and moving out into the corridor with Thomas just half a step behind him.

Newt was already in Minho’s room by the time he cried out for the third time.

“Minho! Wake up. It’s over. You’re safe.” Newt grabbed Minho’s arms to stop him lashing out as he woke with a panicked noise. “Look at me. You’re safe, mate. Just breathe.” 

Minho’s unfocused eyes met his and Newt watched as the fragments of reality seemed to click back together in Minho’s eyes.

“Oh…” Minho shrunk back slightly, his hands slipping out of Newt’s grip as a guilty look sunk across his features. “Sorry.” 

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked, sitting on the edge of the bed behind Newt. 

Minho nodded, rubbing his hands across his face to dry his tears. “Yeah I just…. I thought I was getting a grip on it, is all.” 

“Minho, it hasn’t even been a week,” Newt said gently. “It’s gonna take time.” 

“Yeah. Yeah.” Minho sniffed.

“I guess having Gally around does do some good, huh?” Thomas said lightly and Minho’s head shot up, his mouth opened to protest, but after a beat of hesitation, he smiled slightly.

Newt’s brain woke up slightly more and he remembered last night Gally had said he was going to see Winston’s mom before the Yuletide Ball.

“I guess he does,” Minho said wryly and it most confirmation of their relationship status that either of them had given since Minho and Newt’s conversation at Thomas’ bedside.

With a quick glance towards the clock, Newt nudged Minho’s legs and rose up to his feet. “Come on,” he said, “we’ve gotta be up in a couple of hours anyway, it’s not like we’re going back to sleep. We’ll go down and get an early breakfast.” 

“It’s four am,” Thomas said, scrunching up his nose in distaste for early mornings.

“Then a late-night snack, then,” Newt replied with a roll of his eyes.

Minho smiled softly but pushed himself out of bed and didn’t argue as Newt and Thomas both slung an arm around his shoulders as they headed back down the corridor.

They made it halfway to the stairs before the sound of voices made them hesitate. Light cracked out from under the door to their lounge and Newt sighed slightly. He slipped out from under Minho’s arm and gently pushed open the door enough to stick his head around it.

“I guess sleep’s overrated,” he commented lightly.

There were many lounges throughout the Palace but this one had been converted from Newt, Sonya and Minho’s playroom into the main place they came together. It was one of the least put together rooms in the building but also one of the most private. Staff rarely stepped inside unless there was something wrong, so over time, it had become home to an array of eclectic things that somehow represented their little family perfectly.

It wasn’t uncommon in their teenage years for cushions to be pulled off of couches and window seats and for various blankets and throws to be pulled out of cupboards so they could all sleepover together and it seemed like tonight was the night they were reviving that tradition.

Sonya, Harriet and Aris were slumped together in a tangle of limbs leaning back against one of the cushion-less couches and a little to the side Frypan sat with Brenda’s head in his lap while she slept. 

“Hey,” Sonya said softly, “you too?”

Newt pushed open the door more. “Us too,” he corrected.

“Come join us,” Harriet said, patting the space on the cushion next to her. “Chuck’s gone down to raid the kitchen.” 

“Chuck’s awake too?” Thomas asked, his eyebrows furrowed in a concerned frown as they stepped into the room.

“Yeah, he was halfway to the kitchen when we got up,” Harriet said, “he said he’d bring up extras.” 

Thomas sighed as he dropped down next to Frypan. “I thought he was sleeping better,” he murmured.

Newt pressed a gentle kiss to Sonya’s hair as he sunk down between her and Thomas with Minho flopping down by their legs.

“I don’t think anybody is sleeping great,” Sonya admitted, her fingers toying with the ends of her hair that hung thinly over her unplanned undercut.

She wasn’t wrong though.

They were all slowly getting paler and the dark circles under their eyes getting were gradually getting worse.

“At least all of you guys have your ribs intact,” Brenda murmured sleepily, rolling onto her back with a pained grunt.

“I have a hole through my abdomen,” Thomas said and Newt let his head fall back against the side of the armchair before they started bickering, thankfully before they could the door opened again and Chuck stepped in. He had two flasks tucked under one arm, a bunch of mugs hooked on his fingers and enough sweet snacks to feed an army.

“Oh,” he said, realising there were now more people than he’d left. “Hey, guys.” 

“Hey, buddy,” Thomas said, his voice softer than before.

“Did you bring me a pudding cup?” Brenda asked, making grabby hands towards him or the snacks.

Chuck moved over to the cushionless couch and dropped the snacks into a heap. He thankfully put the mugs and flasks down gentler before tossing a chocolate pudding cup in Brenda’s general direction.

Frypan snatched it out of the air with a laugh before it could hit him in the face and he passed it down to Brenda who took it with a grin.

“Thank you,” she chirped, peeling back the lid with a flare. “Wait, did you bring-” She broke off as a small spoon landed on the blankets next to her. “Thanks!” 

“What else did you bring?” Minho asked curiously, pushing himself up to get a better look at the snacks.

“Erm, flasks of hot chocolate, cookies, those brownies that Mrs Creek told me not to touch and fudge,” Chuck said, pointing to each offending item in turn.

“Aw, man, Mrs Creek is gonna kill you when she finds that gone.” Frypan said, “But pass me a piece, would you?” 

They all laughed and the distribution of sweet goods started. With Newt, Thomas and Minho joining them, they were three mugs short to share out the hot chocolate but Minho was given the lid made cup while Thomas and Newt were just given the rest of the flask to share between them.

The sugar seemed to brighten everybody’s moods enough that conversations started up and the air seemed to lighten for just a moment until they lapsed into silence and that heavy feeling of dread seemed to sink back into them.

“I spoke to Jorge the other day,” Brenda started quietly. “He thinks we should all talk to someone about… everything.” 

“Like a psychiatrist?” Aris asked looking wary.

“I don’t think that’s a bad idea,” Newt admitted honestly but by the way Minho’s face paled to a putrid shade of green and Aris shifted closer to Harriet he felt like he’d just stepped on a landmine. “Wha-” 

Sonya smiled slightly but her eyes were filled with tears. “WCKD… they tried to get in our heads,” she said, her voice scarily hollow as her fingers brushed over the gauze across the side of her head that covered her healing scars. “They’d make us hallucinate and try and get doctors to… talk us through it.” 

Every time Newt learnt something new about WCKD’s ‘methods,’ he thought it couldn’t get any worse until he learnt about the next thing and it made him feel sick to his stomach all over again.

“I’m not really eager to relive it all again,” Minho said bitterly.

Newt bit his lip as he considered it. 

They all had every right to run far away from anything WCKD related and never look at anything like that ever again but Newt also knew first hand what happened when you tried to push your problems aside and he wouldn’t let anybody he cared about go through that.

“You have to deal with it though,” he said quietly, “we can’t just carry on with life and pretend it didn’t happen.” 

“You’re right,” Sonya murmured, “we do all need to deal with it, even if it’s just so we can sleep through the night.” 

Aris seemed to reluctantly agree but Minho’s jaw was set stubbornly, a shell of the bright and open man he was a month ago and that crushed Newt more than anything else.

“Sleeping through the night would be a nice place to start,” Harriet admitted, her fingers scratching through Aris’ hair absently.

“Amen to that,” Brenda murmured, using her spoon to mash her third pudding cup up with more force than was strictly necessary.

Aris exhaled through his nose in almost a cynical laugh. “Waking up without screaming would be a good start.” 

“Nightmares?” Thomas asked softly.

Aris looked up at him, his eyes haunted as he shook his head in a small motion. “Memories,” he confessed. “At least, I think they’re memories.” 

“Maybe talking it through with someone who knows what they’re doing can help you figure that out,” Harriet said gently, “what’s real and what’s a dream.” 

“Maybe.” 

“I feel like therapy is a thing that’s not done at four am for a reason,” Brenda said pointedly, “why don’t we make these decisions when there’s a shrink in an office to deal with those decisions? I haven’t slept in three days, my head isn’t right for deep and meaningful conversations without offending someone.” 

Newt snorted, leave it to Brenda to say something as flatly as possible and actually be right.

“What do you suggest we do instead?” Frypan asked around a mouthful of cookie. 

Brenda looked around at them and shrugged. “Trashy TV?” 

Sonya opened her mouth as if to argue but then nodded. “Trashy TV sounds good.” 

They started with bland reality shows and ended up watching a surprisingly good show about first responders. The characters were well written and pretty attractive and it was one of the few shows Sonya had made Newt watch that he thought he could actually get into, it helped that the cast looked like they’d all been hired through a modelling agency.

Newt dosed off several episodes later, halfway through a yoga class full of pregnant women all going into labour at once.

He was just starting to sink into the warm feeling of safety that came with being surrounded by those you trust when the living room door opened and they all flinched in shock, suddenly wide awake. On the other side of the pit of cushions, Chuck gave a startled cry and little pieces of fudge flew up into the air.

Despite his build, Gally managed to sink back into himself pretty well.

“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic look on his face. “I didn’t mean to let go of the door.” 

“What time is it?” Minho asked, pushing himself up onto his elbow as he rubbed his eyes sleepily.

“Just after ten,” Gally said glancing across at the clock on the wall. “I didn’t realise I was missing slumber party night.” 

“It wasn’t scheduled,” Newt said, flexing his foot that was tingling angrily with pins and needles where Minho had laid on it.

“It’s the best I’ve slept in weeks though,” Chuck murmured and then flushed darkly when they looked across at him, he clearly hadn’t meant to be overheard.

Thomas shifted slightly and Newt rested his hand on his arm before he could question it. Now wasn’t the time.

“I’m down for more slumber parties if it’s going,” Harriet said, “we haven’t done this in way too long.” 

“There’s worse coping mechanisms,” Brenda said, pushing herself upright with a hand pressed against her ribs and a grimace of pain.

“Way better than talking about your feelings,” Thomas agreed. 

Gally stared at them blankly for a moment. “Uh huh,” he said. “Are you coming for breakfast or is the sugar rush still going?” 

“Eat some chocolate and join us.” Minho scrunched up his face and tossed a candy bar towards Gally who stared down at it as it bounced off of his chest and fell to the floor.

“I don’t-” Gally broke off with a shake of his head before bending down to pick up the chocolate bar, he peeled back the wrapper and took a bite with a slight shrug of his shoulders as he gave in.

“We should go and get proper food though,” Sonya said, “there’s only so many sweets my stomach can take.” 

“I disagree,” Chuck said around a mouthful of fudge and Newt scrunched up his nose in disgust as he spat bits of it everywhere.

Sonya rose to her feet with a laugh. “Enjoy it while you can, kid.” She turned back to hold out her hands to Harriet and Aris, pulling them both off the floor.

“I want pancakes,” Aris said thoughtfully as they all started to pick themselves up.

“Not cornbread?” Minho teased lightly, making Aris roll his eyes with a groan.

“It was one time.” 

“Twice, actually,” Frypan said, laughing when Aris flipped him off.

“Come on,” Thomas said, ushering them all towards the door. “Argue about food when we have food.” 

.

Breakfast was just as much of a chaotic affair as their makeshift slumber party was. Except instead of them being spread out across chocolate crumb covered blankets, they were sat around a large dining table with shined silver cutlery in scrunched up pyjamas and messy bed hair.

The bickering was, for once, lighthearted and it was the brightest the atmosphere surrounding them had been for a while.

The dining-room door opened and Mary came in looking more dishevelled than any of them did. She was still wearing her scrubs from the nightshift and her hair hung out of its braid around her face in frayed looking pieces.

“Sorry to interrupt your breakfast,” she said and Newt could feel the light mood start to weigh, "but I thought you’d want to know that Teresa’s woken up.” 

"How is she?" Thomas asked, half rising out of his seat.

Mary placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, guiding him to sit back down. “It took a while for her to get her bearings, but she’s better than we expected her to be,” she said grimly, “she’s on a lot of painkillers but she’s hopefully had her last surgery.” 

“Has she said anything?” Minho asked, his eyes wide with an emotion that Newt couldn’t decipher.

Mary smiled towards him comfortingly. “She asked after you all,” she said, “she told me to tell you all that she’s sorry for everything.” 

Minho rose up to his feet, the chair screeching loudly against the floorboards. “I’m gonna go see her,” he said, blinking several times to clear the emotion from his eyes.

“Yeah,” Sonya said as she stood up, “we should thank her.” 

“There goes breakfast,” Chuck said mournfully as everyone finished what they were eating to follow after them. 

Newt still didn’t know the whole story about what had happened with Teresa, they’d all kept pretty quiet about their time in WCKD. All he knew was that Teresa had worked for WCKD and at some point she did something to upset them enough that they beat her within an inch of her life and left her for dead with more broken bones than whole ones. Newt didn’t know when Teresa decided to stop working for WCKD or whether it was before or after the attack on the coronation, if it was before or after she learnt about their experiments, if it was before or after Winston killed himself. In the world of WCKD, what line was the one she couldn’t cross? How far did they go before she stood up to them?

A part of Newt wanted to know how many lives were too many for her but the other part, the bigger, more grateful part of him that was just thankful to have his family back was just happy that WCKD crossed her line and she kept on fighting long enough to tell them where the rest of the captives were being held.

He didn’t know what bad outweighed what good. He wasn’t the one entitled to make that judgment.

That was somebody else's hard decision to make.

And he was even more grateful for that.

Newt laced his fingers through Thomas’ as they stepped into the Hospital Wing. As he walked through the emergency department and was hit with the sharp smell of disinfectant, his heart pounded as the fear of Thomas bleeding out in his arms rushed back through him.

Thomas glanced sideways at him, squeezing his hand slightly as if to remind him that he was there and back in one piece.

All of the hospital beds were still occupied with children of varying ages, but they were wearing clean clothes now and most of them looked a little more comfortable with their surroundings than they did last time Newt was there. Some of them were sitting on friends beds, huddled together closely and there was even a group of confused looking younger children sat on the floor with a couple of nurses, a board game spread out in between them.

“How are they all?” Brenda asked, eyeing the kids with a worried frown.

Mary followed her gaze and gave a fond smile. “As well as can be expected,” she said, “we’ve only got four in ICU still, which is incredible for the number that came in.” 

“Do you have everything you need for them?” Sonya asked worriedly.

Mary’s smile widened. “We’ve had so many donations,” she said, “clothes, games, toys, money even. People have been bringing us whatever they can, we have more than enough.”

“Good,” Harriet said with a slight nod. “Hopefully after Christmas, they’ll be able to have more. Proper homes even, someplace outside of a hospital.” 

Mary pushed open the door to the ICU corridor and they came to a stop next to a window that looked in on Teresa’s bed.

She wasn’t really visible to them from that angle, just enough that she was lying flat, one fully splinted leg propped up in a sling and they could see more plaster cast than her actual arms, but the observation machine behind her beeped steadily every couple of seconds.

“Don’t all go in at once,” Mary instructed, “she’s very tired still and pretty confused at times but we’re hoping that that goes away when we’re able to reduce her pain medication.” 

“How-” Sonya swallowed. “How bad were her injuries really? I didn’t want to ask before…” 

Mary’s smile became sadder. “Her left hand was completely shattered, several broken fingers and a dislocated elbow on her right. Fractures to her cheek, jaw and skull as well as eight ribs. There’s a lot of swelling around her spinal cord at the base of her neck, but that should heal easiest. Her shin had two hairline fractures and the rest was superficial bruises and cuts,” she listed and Newt didn’t know how she could call any of Teresa’s condition superficial. Next to him, Newt felt Thomas grow gradually tenser and Newt reminded himself that Thomas had grown up with Teresa; they’d been friends before all of this. “We surgically pinned her hand back together the best we could, but it’s hard to tell how much of it will be lasting damage, at least two nerves were shredded in that area. She had some internal abdominal bleeding from a ruptured spleen but that was repaired in surgery.” 

“How many surgeries has she had?” Aris asked his voice small.

“Seven,” Mary replied grimly. “Depending on how well her hand heals, she might need an eighth.” 

“Jesus Christ…” Brenda breathed. “How is she still alive?”

“Because the attack on that WCKD facility interrupted them,” Minho said. “They were going to finish the job if they had more time. But they didn’t think you’d save a former WCKD employee, so they left her to die alone.” 

“Can I-” Thomas’ voice was hoarse and cracked before he cleared his throat. “Can I go and see her?” 

Mary squeezed his arm comfortingly and nodded. “Just for a few minutes.” 

Newt went to let go of Thomas’ hand to give him some privacy but Thomas’ fingers tightened around his own before he stepped into the room and Newt had little choice but to follow.

As the door fell shut behind them, the only sounds in the room was the steady beeping of the machine and the light hiss of an oxygen tank.

They moved to stand next to Teresa’s bed and at the sound of their footsteps she turned her head fractionally so she could see them. The patchwork of bruises that littered her skin had started to fade into acrid greens and yellows and the oxygen cannula that went up her nose with another tube cast dark shadows across her face in the unforgivingly stark light, making the malnourished hollows of her cheeks look worse.

Her eyes filled with tears that quickly spilt down her cheeks as she looked up at them both.

“Thomas,” she said, nothing more to her voice than a whisper. “Thomas.” 

“Hey,” Thomas replied, reaching out hesitantly with his free hand as if he was going to hold her hand before he remembered the casts and instead reached up to brush her hair back from her face. The patches that had been torn out in her struggle had scabbed over but hadn’t yet started to grow back.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry. Will you- will you tell the others that I’m sorry.” 

Thomas gave her a comforting smile but the effect was diminished slightly by his own tears. “You can tell them yourself in a minute,” he told her. “They’re right outside.” 

Teresa opened her mouth to say something, but her split lips were trembling too much to form the words and as she struggled, Newt noticed for the first time that she was missing a top tooth, no doubt having been knocked out when she was attacked.

“They’re okay?” she finally managed to ask, her eyes darting to Newt like he was less likely to spare her a false truth than Thomas was.

Newt nodded slightly. “They’re all alive because of you,” he assured her and swallowed at his suddenly dry mouth. “You saved their lives, thank you.” 

“At the coronation, I swear I didn’t know they were coming,” she said, a hint of desperation slipping into her tone. “I didn’t know they were going to come for you all.” 

Newt went to shake his head. “Don’t worry about that now,” he said, “just focus on getting better. The rest doesn’t matter until then.” 

Teresa sniffed wetly and it looked as though she tried to nod but the plastic collar keeping her neck straight stopped her from moving.

“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked, looking back to Thomas.

“I don’t know,” Thomas replied honestly. “It’s not for us to decide. It’s not even for Sonya to decide. But you’ll stay here and be treated the same until you’ve healed.” 

Teresa gave as much of a nod as she could and her gaze didn’t waver despite the uncertainty of her future. “Thank you,” she breathed. “And I’m sorry. About Winston.” 

Newt’s brain faltered at his friend’s name. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“He begged me for them,” she said tearfully. “We couldn’t cure him so I got them the right medications.” 

‘We’ as in WCKD. 

‘Them’ as in Sonya, Minho and Aris.

“Was it you?” Newt asked, his voice suddenly detached and angry. “That made him ill?” 

Teresa shook her head. “I was trying to find a cure for him but there isn’t one,” she said, a desperate note in her voice like she was begging them to understand. “He was in so much pain, it was the only thing we could do for him. But Janson wanted him alive, to die more naturally.” 

She’d been working for WCKD until after Winston had died.

“They did this because I gave him peace,” she wheezed.

If they’d have gotten to the WCKD facility a little sooner, then Winston would have still been alive…

He had his answer though. Keeping Winston alive when he was in so much pain was the line she wouldn’t cross.

Newt supposed he should be grateful for that but he also couldn’t help but think of the weeks before then that his family had been their prisoners - her prisoners.

He looked back over his shoulder towards the window into the corridor. Most of them were talking amongst themselves, not paying them any attention but Minho was. His arms were folded tightly across his chest and his steely eyes met Newt’s.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one who felt conflicted about it.

“You did the right thing in the end,” Thomas assured her softly but there was a waiver of doubt even in his voice. “that counts for something.” 

But how much?

Were these injuries her punishment?

Was living with the tortured faces in her mind punishment enough? 

Was Winston’s dying breath?

It was for a judge and a jury to decide.

“I think the others want to check on you,” Newt said a little abruptly, unable to keep thinking about it all. “We shouldn’t take up all of your time.” 

Thomas frowned at him but didn’t argue, they gave her their good wishes before stepping back out of the corridor where everyone but Mary was still waiting and Newt found he could breathe a little easier out there.

As Sonya, Aris and Minho went in to see her together, Harriet looked across at Newt and Thomas worriedly.

“Did she say anything?” she asked.

Thomas didn’t say anything, his eyes fixed hazily on the floor and Newt knew he was trying to make it all make sense.

“She claims not to have known about the attack on the Estate. But she was the one that got them the drugs for Winston,” Newt said, “she was still working for WCKD then and WCKD did this to her because of that.” 

“If we’d have been a few days earlier…” Frypan trailed off, a haunted look in his eyes.

“Yeah.” 

The palm of Gally’s hand hit against the wall as he cursed and as Chuck flinched at the sound, Gally looked immediately regretful.

“We don’t know what else she did though,” Thomas argued weekly, “she could’ve been helping them before that.” 

Frustration tugged inside of Newt. He understood that Thomas and Teresa had a history together but Thomas was, at some point, going to have to face the fact that Teresa was involved in WCKD’s crimes in some way.

“Or she could’ve been the one that tortured them,” Gally shot back and Thomas didn’t reply.

They fell into a tense quiet as they waited for the others to come back out and when they did they pretended not to notice Sonya drying her eyes as Harriet pulled her into half a hug but Newt did notice Minho’s features looked softer than before.

“Come on,” Harriet said, “we should at least go and get dressed even if we do nothing else today.” 

Aris snorted lightly. “It’s nearly noon.” 

“And?” Brenda scoffed. “Embrace the youthfulness!” 

“Is that even a word?” Chuck frowned and Brenda sighed dramatically.

“Don’t argue, buddy,” Newt advised as they crossed back into the main ward.

Brenda stopped short and Newt was about to tell her that arguing with a fourteen year old about how real a word was, whether she was right or not, was a little beneath her when he followed her gaze.

Down another corridor that led out to the main entrance a couple were arguing with one of the nurses before the strange woman shoved passed and ran towards the ward and the already traumatised children.

Newt opened his mouth to shout a warning but Brenda was already moving. 

As the woman lunged towards a little girl who couldn’t have been older than ten Brenda grabbed her arm. She twisted the woman around in a smooth motion, slamming the stranger face first against a thankfully empty cart.

The ward fell silent at the commotion. The woman’s partner shouted out in protest but Gally and Frypan blocked the man’s path with ease before he could try and intervene.

The girl who she’d lunged for, curled in on herself and Sonya rushed to her side comfortingly.

“Get off me!” the woman shrieked, struggling fruitlessly against Brenda’s grip.

“Keep going and I will break your arm,” Brenda warned and despite her still healing ribs, she didn’t look particularly put out.

“You can’t do that!” 

“Can’t I?” Brenda asked, twisting the woman’s arm enough that she cried out. “Calm down and I won’t have to. But you’re trespassing on royal property. You’re lucky you weren’t shot.” 

“How did they get in here?” Sonya demanded and despite the young girl curled up in her arms and her baggy pyjamas, she still somehow looked every bit the queen she was.

“They bribed a guard at the gate, Your Majesty,” the nurse who was arguing with them said and both the couple fell still as they realised who was talking to them. “They’re claiming that Freya is their daughter, Ma’am. I told them we’d have to run some tests to confirm that first, and they got… agitated.” 

“Do you not think these children have been through enough?” Harriet asked, her eyes flaring dangerously. “Without you storming in here and just grabbing them.” 

“Your Majesty, please! We haven’t seen our daughter in years!” The man said desperately.

A tiny part of Newt might have felt sorry for them had they not been so incredibly stupid and potentially harmed their child more than she already was.

“And this isn’t the way to reintroduce yourself,” Minho spat.

“Security, take them out of here. Have their case handed over with the other claims,” Harriet ordered.

Brenda pulled the crying woman off of the trolley and shoved her none too gently into a security guard’s arms.

“And have whoever took that bribe fired,” Sonya added.

“Yes, Ma’am,” one of the guards said, pulling the now sobbing woman out of the ward as quickly as possible.

Newt cast his eyes across the children in concern. Several of the younger ones were huddled together in tears whereas the slightly older children were whispering none too subtly behind their hands as they stared up at Brenda with wide, awe filled eyes.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked her as she leant forward against the trolley with one of her hands pressed to her ribs.

“Uh huh,” she said unconvincingly.

“You should probably get checked out while we’re here,” Gally said, frowning down at her.

Brenda waved their worries away as she straightened back up. “I just didn’t take anything this morning,” she said. “I’ll be fine in a bit.” 

Sonya passed Freya off to a nurse and rose up to her feet, looking a little more shaken than she’d probably admit. “Come on,” she said, all of the hardness gone from her tone. “We should get out of here.” 

\- **Day Forty Four -**

The next two weeks seemed to slip by with surprising grace. As their physical wounds healed over and their everyday routines and duties started to guide the structure of their days again, things slowly started to seem more normal.

When the twenty-third day of the month came, the full Glade Estate was alight with festivities. Decorations were up, lights twinkled brightly and seasonal music seemed to be playing no matter where Newt went. 

It still didn’t feel like Christmas to him though, the shadow of what had happened loomed over them every time someone screamed in the night or someone pulled their still healing scars with a wince of pain. It was the small things that hurt the most, the way Sonya would flinch whenever something would touch her head or a breeze would catch her hair. Or how Chuck had a panic attack so bad he threw up after a gunfight on the TV that they couldn’t turn off quick enough. 

What had somehow hurt even more was when they stepped into the newly finished West Drawing Room for the first time just a day previously. They’d been asked to approve the decorations for the Yuletide Ball but none of them had set foot in that room since the wall had been blown inwards and WCKD attacked.

Harriet had brushed her fingers over the repaired outside wall and burst into tears. Violent sobs wracking through her body as she clutched Sonya and Aris close to her.

Newt found his gaze drawn to the spot on the floor where he’d been pushed to the ground and his chest tightened like Zart’s motionless body was on top of him all over again as the rapid sounds of gunfire echoed in his ears. Thomas’ soft fingers traced up his neck and into his hair reminded him how to breathe again.

Those organising the annual ball had offered to hold it in some other part of the palace or even at a different venue entirely but both Sonya and Harriet had politely declined. They’d rebuilt the Estate rather than letting it rot into ruins and now they were rebuilding their lives and they had to show their people that. Altogether, they were going to hold another large, public event in the very same room with their heads held high with a massive fuck you pointed towards the people who’d tried to tear them all apart.

Newt pulled his jacket on, straightening out his collar as he watched Thomas struggle to knot his tie with an entertained expression. There were many things Thomas could do well with long and nimble fingers, evenly knot a tie wasn’t one of them.

“C’mere,” Newt laughed, tugging him closer after his third uneven attempt. 

“I nearly had it!” Thomas protested but let his hands fall to his sides.

Newt gave an amused hum. “Sure you did,” he said like this didn’t happen every time they had to dress up smartly.

Thomas’ tie was a deep burgundy that contrasted nicely against his own navy suit but matched Newt’s perfectly.

As Newt tightened the silk-like material in place, he remembered the last time he’d done this, right before they’d gone down to watch his sister take her place on the throne. Right before- 

Newt shook his head slightly, he refused to let himself be anxious over what had happened, not tonight.

He let his fingers run up to toy with the edge of Thomas collar and as his eyes rose up they met Thomas’ soft and attentive ones.

Hands drifted around Newt’s waist, finding their way up and under his jacket but he barely noticed as his own fingers toyed with the soft hairs at the top of Thomas’ neck. His eyes drifted down over Thomas’ smooth features to rest on his lips and together they closed the space between them.

Newt forced himself to keep his lips gentle against his husband’s, they didn’t have time to start anything now and neither of them wanted to burn through the night on the edge of something not quite finished.

As they separated, Newt let his head rest against Thomas’, their noses brushing softly as they breathed as one. He didn’t bother to open his eyes and end this moment between them. But as they stood there, holding each other, the part of Newt that had been running on nothing but adrenaline for weeks settled against Thomas’ tender touch.

That love filled moment was the first time Newt truly felt at peace in what felt like forever.

“We should go down,” Thomas whispered against his lips.

Newt hummed in agreement but made no indication of moving straight away.

When he was ready, he opened his eyes and Thomas’ evocative gaze burnt straight through him and did nothing to help them leave.

“I love you,” Newt said softly, watching the way Thomas’ lips curved in a loving smile.

“I love you too,” he said and it didn’t matter how many times Thomas said it, the mushy, sentimental part of Newt didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing it.

He pressed a chaster kiss against his lips before Newt finally stepped away, his hand trailing down Thomas’ arm to find his fingers so as not to lose contact with him for less than a second. He snatched up his sleek black and silver cane from where it leant against the vanity. It was more for show than anything else, but Newt had finally gone back to not wearing his brace all the time and as his muscles readjusted, it left him a little unsteady on his feet at times, so on a night like this, a little extra support would do no harm.

As they reached the first floor balcony where everyone else was already waiting, Newt let his eyes drift across his family warmly.

Sonya and Harriet’s arms were linked, both of them laughing brightly at something a pleased looking Aris had said. Their long ball gowns flowed with every movement and the fairy lights danced against their crowns giving them both a curiously magical look. Pride burnt inside of him when he saw Sonya’s hair had that had been woven around to fall loosely over her left shoulder. The hair around her scar and above her ear had been shaved into a neater shape, leaving the healing wound on display just under the golden twists of ivy leaves.

Newt’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise as his eyes scanned around to rest on Gally and Minho’s hands, joined together between them in a gesture that was more than casual. They were lost in conversation with Brenda and Frypan at their sides and they all laughed as Chuck batted Gally’s hand away from his styled hair.

Thomas squeezed his hand slightly and Newt met his bright smile with a softer one of his own as their warmth encaptured him.

As they got closer Sonya called out brightly as she noticed them. Newt’s pressed a soft kiss against her cheek in greeting as their group enclosed around them as one.

An aide rushed over when he realised they were all together and on Sonya’s nod of approval he signalled down to the Herald.

Music flared up downstairs and they all shuffled into a more respectable looking group at the top of the stairs as down below they were announced.

"Here we go," Minho said, "hey, Sonya, try not to fall down the stairs again." 

They all laughed, as they remembered last years ball where Sonya's heel caught in her dress and she'd tripped down the last three stairs only saved by Harriet's arms.

Now, Sonya rolled her eyes, miming straightening her crown as she pushed her shoulders back, a silent gesture that she was ready.

Harriet and Sonya took the first step but unlike normal protocol, nobody waited for them to reach the bottom before following after. They’d decided that this Yuletide would be lead with a show of unity and strength within the Royal household at the start of The Glade’s new era.

**-**

Most of the evening was spent mingling between wellwishers. Hands were shaken, dances were had and most importantly money for the children was secured as simultaneously Sonya and Harriet’s places as Queen’s finally started to solidify in everybody's hearts and minds.

As the night started to draw to a close Sonya stepped up to the microphone as the band faded themselves out.

Her eyes scanned over the small sea of people that stood before her and her red painted lips curved into a pride filled smile.

“Good evening,” she said, her voice carrying across the room, “first of all I’d like to thank you for coming tonight to our two hundred and fiftieth annual Yuletide Ball. A few weeks ago I never thought I’d be standing here with you all tonight but because of the courage and determination of you all, I am. The last time I stood up in front of you all, in this very room, the unthinkable happened but we weren’t just attacked that night, our eyes were opened to a conspiracy that has plagued our country for decades. People we trusted turned against us and it threatened us all. WCKD-” Sonya faltered but as her eyes met Harriet’s in the front row she softened slightly. 

“WCKD’s aim was well intentioned but the methods they used to try and execute it crossed lines that nobody should cross and because they did, hundreds of innocent people, most of them children, died alone and frightened at the hands of Doctor’s who had abandoned their vow to do no harm. Now, in previous years this Ball has been nothing but a symbolic occasion, where my mother and her father before that stood in this very spot and spoke about the great things we’ve achieved over the past years. This year, it’s been less symbolic and because of that, it’s done much more good.

“This Yuletide speech is usually one with a message of hope, but instead, tonight you’ve given us and every survivor that hope. The money you’ve all donated is going straight to the children who are rebuilding their lives and to the families of the children who can’t. For us the New Year won’t be seen in here, instead, we’ll be doing some good and opening the Safe Haven Center, a place where they can rehabilitate together without having to be separated from each other or gawked at by society. So, again, thank you for giving those children a future they deserve.” 

Sonya stepped back from the microphone as the room broke out in thunderous applause. Chuck shrunk into Thomas’ side slightly at the sudden loud noise but he was still beaming around brightly.

WCKD had tried to tear the Royal House apart but all they’d managed to do was shatter the outdated rule founded on secrecy and rumours, leaving room for it to be replaced by a glistening light of hope and transparency.

\- **Day Forty Six -**

Newt's body woke naturally as the morning light cracked through the frost coated windows. He rolled over, limbs heavy to look across at the other side of the bed, frowning in confusion through his sleepy haze at the empty space.

"Good morning." 

"Oh, hey." Newt smiled sleepily as he twisted to look towards the door that Thomas was pushing closed. “What’s happening?” 

Thomas pulled himself back across the bed to lay next to Newt, brushing a longer strand of hair away from Newt’s face tenderly. “Nothing,” he said, “Chuck is more excited about Christmas than when he was five. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“It’s okay,” he said softly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What time is it?” 

“A little after six-thirty,” Thomas said making Newt laugh slightly.

“We haven’t been up this early for Christmas in years,” he said as his smile softened, “it’s nice.” 

Newt closed his eyes again, his head resting against Thomas’ hand and he just breathed in the warmth between them. Neither of them moved or even needed to say anything, it was just enough that they were there together.

It wasn’t until a shriek of laughter sounded out from the corridor that Newt opened his eyes again, not even minding that the moment was broken.

“It sounds like the others are up,” Thomas laughed and Newt pushed himself to be upright.

“We should go join them.” 

Newt shifted towards the edge of the bed, but before he could rise up to his feet, Thomas caught his hand.

“Hey,” he said softly. As Newt looked back at him, Thomas leant forward kissing Newt soundly. “Happy Christmas.” 

Newt smiled against his lips. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, kissing him back softly, morning breath be damned.

Eventually, they managed to pull themselves out of bed and the closest Newt came to getting ready for the day was running a hand through his sleep messed hair.

Thomas opened their bedroom door but stopped short as he went to step out into the corridor as Minho ran past with Sonya on his back. Both of them were laughing wildly as they headed towards Aris and his camera with speed, Sonya’s pale hair trailing out behind them. They were going too fast though, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, Minho still wasn’t back to full strength so when he tried to stop, Sonya’s weight took him off balance and they both tumbled to the floor, almost taking Aris with them. Newt winced in sympathy at the tangle of limbs, half expecting groans of pain but it just made them laugh harder.

“What did you-” Harriet broke off as she and Frypan rounded the corner and as she took in the sight before her she shook her head fondly. “I left you alone for two minutes. How…” her sentence trailed off as she laughed.

“It was Minho’s idea,” Gally said through his own laughter as he, Chuck and Brenda walked down from where they’d run.

“It was not!” Minho shouted out petulantly, still on the floor with Sonya half on top of him.

“It was brilliant,” Chuck exclaimed, shaking his head as he tried to catch his breath.

“Do I wanna ask?” Newt asked as he and Thomas fully stepped into the corridor, no longer at the risk of being trampled by one of his siblings.

“I wouldn’t,” Brenda warned and Newt took her advice, moving closer as Minho pulled himself and then Sonya up off of the floor. She leant against his side for a moment and Newt couldn’t help but smile warmly at them. They’d been closer than ever over the past couple of weeks and despite the circumstances, it was nice to see.

“Well if you’re all done out here, there’s food laid out in the lounge,” Frypan said and Newt couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t tempted by the drifting smell of warm, fresh pastries.

They headed down to the main lounge where like every year a table had been set up with a little buffet of pastries, fruit and waffles had all been eloquently arranged. There was a large pan of swirling, steaming hot chocolate sat on top of a heater and Newt’s mouth watered as the rich scent hit his nose.

Jorge, Mary and Vince were already waiting on the couches, mugs of steaming liquids cradled in their hands as they talked contently between them.

“Good morning!” Mary called out as they came in. “Happy Christmas!” 

“Merry Christmas!” 

“Happy Christmas!” 

Greetings were shared and both Thomas and Chuck went over to hug Mary. Chuck saw her as more of a mother than Thomas did and she was in a way their third mother, having taken them in when they were both just children.

They all piled up plates with sweet smelling foods and Newt made sure to get the biggest mug of hot chocolate he could before going to settle in front of the Christmas tree, letting the heat from the roaring fireplace sink into his aching bones.

Once everybody had settled down presents started to get passed around and it was chaos once again. 

But this was the sort of chaos Newt lived for. 

The air was thick with love and laughter.

Jorge put on the old gramophone and Sonya and Harriet got up to dance to the cheesy Christmas songs, singing along dramatically with their heads thrown back and eyes bright and alive.

Minho through the first ball of wrapping paper and they all dove for cover as it triggered an all-out war with every man for themselves and even Mary joined in, ducking behind Thomas tall frame for protection.

The rest of the day passed by with a similar, joyful and slightly childlike energy and after lunch, they ended up running through the gardens.

All of the tense energy that had built up inside them over the past months seemed to fade away as they chased each other through the narrow tunnels of the Estates maze, their screams and laughter mixing into one whenever two people collided into a hedgerow.

It finally felt like home again.

- **Day Fifty Five -**

 _“I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love._  
 _For we are good people and we’ve suffered enough.”_ _  
_[~Seventy Years of Sleep. Nikka Ursula~](https://shepraises.tumblr.com/post/161849171594/i-think-we-deserve-a-soft-epilogue-my-love-we)

As they all welcomed in the new year, they also welcomed the first snowfall of the season.

It had started as soft flakes in the night but by the time the sun cracked across the horizon, it had settled in thick layers over half of the country.

All of the children that had been rescued from WCKD had for the most part been given a clean bill of health and they’d moved them out to their new home just the day before. 

Mary had said it was some sort of miracle that they didn’t lose any of them along the way and that although some of them would have lasting side effects from the experiments, they were otherwise healthy enough to live the rest of their lives happily.

The children’s new home had been aptly named The Safe Haven. A place for them to recover and rehabilitate in their own time, far enough away from the world that they had privacy, but close enough that they could all visit.

The vast majority of the children’s families couldn’t be found and the ones who had, weren’t nearly ready enough to be sent off with people that were basically strangers to them. Social workers and therapists were working around the clock to try and make the adjustment as smooth as possible and the families were all more than happy to wait now that they knew their children were safe and being cared for.

The Safe Haven was officially opened that morning with a Royal entourage, it was the one day that the centre was open to the media to bring the attention back to what actually mattered: the children.

Newt stood on what had once been a large boarding school’s porch, watching as the children, with some encouragement, investigated the snow for the first time. Surprisingly it was Brenda who managed to convince them to just throw themselves into it, apparently, that day in the hospital where she’d stood between them and a potential threat had stuck with them and now Freya and her friends trailed after her with wide-eyed admiration.

A lot of the others seemed to all but cling to Sonya, Aris and Minho - to nobody's surprise, the three of them had stood between the children and WCKD as often as they could and the kids seemed glad to have been taken under somebody's wing. As they followed Sonya, Minho and Aris by extension they were drawn in with the rest of their small unit and Newt couldn’t help but laugh to himself from the sidelines as he watched them throw handfuls of snow at each other.

It was nice to see them learn how to be kids again.

His eyes drifted past them to rolling waves out at sea. The school had been built on top of the cliffs, looking out across what in the summer was soft sandy beaches and warm waves.

The area was so open and natural. It was a beautiful place to build a new life.

The case against WCKD had been easy to tie together as soon as some of the scientists had started talking it all came out of the woodwork.

Just how many experiments.

How many casualties of their trials.

It turned out that the conspiracy didn’t go nearly as far Newt had once feared. His mother’s research had funded medical research but nothing further and when people started disappearing an initial investigation had been carried out and it turned out that Janson’s claws had been dug in deeper than anybody realised. Once upon a time, he’d worked for the royal family. He’d known Newt, Sonya, Minho and even Harriet when they were children and when the first investigation into WCKD happened, he still had enough connections to the palace that he manipulated it to try and disprove their guilt.

Ava Paige and her most loyal employees had been taken to court just a couple of days after Christmas, it was a highly televised event but none of the royal family had gone. They didn’t even watch it, they had more important things to be doing in their lives than waste time focussing on WCKD. 

But when they all pleaded guilty to hundreds of counts of assault, kidnapping, terrorism, murder and treason and the judge started adding up the life sentences, nobody had any sympathy.

Teresa’s case had been a little more complex and they all paid closer attention to it.

Sonya and Aris had both requested from the start to give evidence in her favour and Minho had decided at the last minute to speak up too and so just a few days ago, the three of them had sat in front of the entire world and told their stories.

They recounted everything from the night they were taken, to Teresa’s shock at the sight of prisoners and her reluctance to harm anyone up until Winston’s death. In shaking voices they spoke about how Janson found them before she could get rid of the evidence and how they’d all been restrained and forced to watch as he beat her again, and again, and again.

After a gruelling forty-eight hours in a courtroom, the verdict came in.

Penance.

There was no evidence of her ever being a part of the actual experiments carried out on WCKD’s prisoners but she had used the results of those trials to further her own research and when she did finally come face to face with those who had been hurt, she’d helped them despite the risk to her own safety and that counted for something.

While others were spending the rest of their lives behind bars, Teresa was to spend years of hers using her knowledge for some good, no longer in a lab but in a hospital, under close watch as she tried to balance the scales out a little.

When that sentence ended, Newt wasn’t sure that the one she’d given herself ever would. The ghosts of WCKD’s methods would haunt her and they’d always be a silent reminder for her to do better things with her knowledge.

No matter what happened, Thomas still cared for her, he probably always would in some way and Newt thought that in time, as she paid her dues, he himself would be able to forgive her.

As the sun started to dip lower in the sky, everyone came to gather at the edge of the cliff, an ancient pillar of rock that had rested there for years had been carefully filled with hand carved names and symbols.

Newt and Thomas stood hand in hand as Vince stepped forward, his hand rested on the memorial for a moment as he gathered his thoughts before he turned back to face the small crowd.

“Many people have sacrificed so much for this to happen,” he said lowly, “Your friends and your family. They held their ground and we lost them along the way. This place is a place for you all to rebuild your lives but this here, this is for them.” 

At Newt’s side Thomas took a shaky breath as he pulled Chuck closer to his side and Newt felt his own tears threaten to fall as Vince spoke.

“In your own time, you come and make your peace.” His hand rested against the rock. “And then you live.” 

A cheer went through the crowd and gradually they dispersed. Some drifted back up towards the house and the clearer patches of snow to play in while others moved forward. 

Newt stepped towards the memorial, not letting go of Thomas’ hand as he and Chuck brushed their fingers across their mother’s name etched into the stone. But Newt’s focus was drawn further round and he traced his fingertips against the cold lettering again and again.

_Alby_

_Winston_

_Zart_

_Alejandra_

His heart ached for them.

It was unfair that they got to live the rest of their lives when so many didn’t.

“Hey.” 

Newt’s fingers slipped from the stone as Sonya tucked herself against his side. Almost everybody had gone back up to the house, but their little family had stayed.

“I think they would’ve been proud of what we’re doing,” Sonya said, dotting her finger against her friend's name.

“They would,” Minho said softly, his head resting on Gally’s shoulder.

“What do we do now?” Chuck asked, his voice sniffly.

Thomas rubbed his hand through his brother’s curls. “Exactly what Vince said we do.” 

“We make peace,” Harriet said, “and we live.” 

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays! ♥


End file.
